Perfect Strangers
by JadaSkye
Summary: Even at 19, Jaina Solo knew she didn't need a man to make her happy. Especially not an overconfident, obnoxious, charmingly irresistable Rogue from the Outer Rim...
1. Perfect Strangers: Sparks

Title: Perfect Strangers

Author: JadaSkye

Comments VERY APPRECIATED at: PG-13

Setting: About 19 years after "The Last Command"

Category: Schmaltzy Romance/Drama

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Lucasfilm, Ltd. No money is being made and no infringement is intended.

Author Notes: No flames about the lack of Jagged Fel please. I started this story before he even existed. This is my first fic and it's really sappy so be forewarned. Jaina's character may be off from the NJO series, but that's because I didn't start reading them until I finished this fic! But it's still good, keep reading!

Shout outs to Cast & Crew- There are a lot of people responsible for the completion of this story. Without their suggestions, inspirational personalities and continued encouragement I would have abandoned this project long ago. I love you guys!

PERFECT STRANGERS: Part I

_DAY ONE_

_(friday)_

_102123-400_

_Solitude is a beautiful thing. This personal vacation is long past due. This is the first time I've really had some time to myself since my 19th b.day!) My baby brother is 16! Speaking of Anakin, he's away at the moment and Jacen took Tenel out for their whatever-year anniversary. I could get used to this only child thing. But I won't be here much longer anyway. It's been—uneventful around here lately, which is nice, but I'm ready to go home to the Academy. By the way, I met a guy today. **Gasp** I know! Knows his way around electricity—but not so much around women..._

Jaina Solo despised medication. Granted, most people who had endured a life like hers had every right to have some kind of dependence on medication. No one would have blamed her for being on a pill to induce peace or happiness. But Jaina didn't believe problems could be solved by bottles filled with anything. That's what grease and wires and power tools were for.

Jaina entered the hangar, toolbox in hand, and approached her pride and joy; the Solo Gemini. The old freighter was ancient and beautiful and Jaina imagined that no matter how famous she became or how many ships she acquired, a slice of her heart would always belong to this seasoned hunk of metal. She and Jacen had recovered the ship one summer on Yavin IV and though Jacen wasn't nearly as mechanically minded, he too got excited at the idea of restoring the ship. However, the idea was not novel for long and Jacen finally left his sister with the giant project. She was a better pilot than she was a mechanic, but she'd kept at it, and sure enough, with a bit of her father's help, the freighter had shaped up into a gorgeous old bucket.

Her free time was slim since her Jedi training schedule had intensified, but when she made it back to Coruscant, Jaina spent every moment she could at the hangar. This afternoon was one of those coveted moments.

About an hour later, Jaina was up to her elbows in hyperdrive motivator when the garage door to the right of her opened, revealing a sleek and beautiful light freighter. It was about the size of her aunt's ship, _Jade's Sabre_, but the owner had obviously spent a lot of time on it. She peeked at it a few times from behind the Gemini, but curiosity finally got the best of her and she slid down from her repulsorlift chair. She crossed the garage floor and making sure there was no one around, she began to explore. She circled the ship, running her fingers across the cool metal exterior and examining the control panel.

"So do I have your approval?" Rounding the starboard edge, Jaina suddenly came face to face with the ship's owner.

"Sith! Don't sneak up on people like that!" She'd been so enthralled that she hadn't even sensed the boy walking up. She met his eyes briefly, confirming that he was hardly a boy, but rather a young man, a couple of years her senior.

"Sorry," he said, eyeing her critically. "Didn't mean to scare ya."

"You didn't scare me," she responded smartly, "You startled me." The young mechanic rolled his eyes.

"Excuse me." he replied sardonically. "Why're you messin' with my ship anyway?"

"I wasn't messing with it." Jaina answered as she walked around him toward her own vessel. "I was just working on my own ship when the door went up. I was simply admiring this-- lovely bucket you've got here."

"Thanks," he commented, pride evident in his voice. Then his tone turned indignant. "What exactly do you mean by 'bucket'?"

Jaina flashed him the legendary Solo lopsided grin. "It's just a term. You know, like a nickname? Don't get all defensive." She started back to the Gemini without another word.

A few minutes later, she was welding wordlessly when the young man called out to her.

"Hey Sparks!" he yelled. "Can I borrow your torch?"

Jaina deactivated the torch and pulled up her visor realizing it was she who was being called. She eyed him, one eyebrow raised. "What did you call me?"

He started in her direction. "Sparks. And I asked if I could borrow that torch when you're done with it."

She stared up at him, slightly annoyed.

"Please?" he asked again, and then smiled at her.

It was Jaina's turn to roll her eyes. "Give me a couple minutes," she finally answered. "And my name is not Sparks."

He nodded an affirmative and shot her a smirk. "It's just a term," he said mockingly. "You know, like a nickname. Don't get all defensive." He winked at her and walked back to his ship. Jaina shot an icy glare at the strangers' back.

LATER...

Jaina pushed stray hairs out of her face as she wrestled with the molecular transmitter within the engine of her vessel. Wires had been crossed somewhere, and she was getting terrible static interference in her holovid transmissions. However, if she spliced the wrong wires, she could override, or possibly shut down one or more important systems. It wasn't supposed to be a difficult thing to fix, but Jaina was having a bit more trouble than she'd planned.

She was leaning over the engine puzzled, when she sensed someone coming up behind her. "Need some help, Sparks?" came the voice just as she turned around.

"You again! No thanks, I think I can-- stangit!" she yelped putting her injured finger in her mouth. The young man stifled his laugh. "Are you sure? I'm not too bad with electricity myself." he said walking towards her. He grabbed a rag off the ground and wiped the engine grease off of his hands.

"How did you know I was--" she turned and stopped in midsentence seeing him up close for the first time. He smiled at her and began looking at her engine. "What seems to be the trouble?" he asked politely.

"I've got it under control." She muttered. "I just have to decide which wires to cross. I don't need your help for that."

He half smiled at her. "So you're just gonna pick one?"

Does he know who I am? Jaina rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I am."

"And if you pick the wrong one?"

"I'll learn from my mistake." she shot back.

He chuckled softly to himself. "That could be one expensive mistake. One that could possibly be avoided too."

Jaina exhaled loudly. "I didn't ask for a second opinion..."

The young man pretended not to hear her. "I mean shouldn't you exhaust your resources before you resort to eeeny meeny miny moe?" he continued.

She glared at him. Once again he pretended not to notice and simply looked into her eyes. "That would be the smart thing to do. I'm no master mech, but, I'm not totally incompetent when it comes to late model K6 freighters."

Jaina was thoroughly annoyed and it was obvious in her voice. How dare he throw terminology at her like she was some kind of amateur.

"Look, I didn't ask for your help so why don't you--"

"Listen," he cut her off. "I'm not picking a fight—it's just that I've seen this before and I wanted to let you know that if you do by chance cross the wrong wire, you're either gonna have a major system shutdown or you're gonna get a nice buzz from head to toe. And it would really be a shame for a-- brilliant mech such as yourself to get fried, and frankly, I don't want to watch it happen or have to clean up the mess--"

"If I let you do it, will you leave me alone?" She cut him off angrily.

He shrugged. "Sure."

Jaina thrust the tangle of wires into his hands. "Fine. Splice away, Super Mech." Jaina Solo did not lose arguments well. Sulking a little, she turned to leave him. He saw her and laughed to himself.

"Look, I didn't want to piss you off. C'mere." He extended his hand. She stopped and turned around, glaring at him. He smiled softly.

"Why don't you come look at this, make sure it's to your liking?"

She waited a moment, then, with her arms still crossed, she slowly walked back to him.

"That's better. Now, what seems to be the problem?" Jaina looked at him warily. "Interference on my holovid." She said, her voice much softer. He studied her engine for a moment, a variety of multicolored wiring in both of his hands. After a moment he went off into a detailed description of the problem using very technical terms. Jaina began to think maybe he was a master mechanic. She'd always thought she was pretty advanced at ship repair. All of her friends always asked her to help them with their own ships. But this guy seemed to know everything. And Jaina suddenly felt a little annoyed, a little jealous-- and maybe, just slightly intimidated. When he finished talking, she looked at him and forced a smile.

"So it's either, the blue one, the green one, or the orange one."

He nodded. "Where's your central computer?"

She showed him and he ran a few tests. After about fifteen minutes, he was back around in the front of the ship splicing wires and mechanisms and humming to himself. Jaina tried to seem as bored and impatient as possible as he worked.

"That should do it!" he said finishing up a little while later. The whole process had only taken about fifteen minutes. It would have taken Jaina at least an hour to do alone. She felt slightly guilty about snapping at him, but not bad enough to apologize.

He closed the panel and wiped his hands on ripped trousers.

"Alright, you fire everything up and I'll be right back." He started jogging toward his ship, then stopped and turned around. "Hey, whaddya call this bucket anyway?"

"Gemini."

He nodded the acknowledgment and started jogging again. She climbed up into the cockpit and started her engines. Everything seemed to be online and running smoothly. The holovid transmitter took a moment to warm up.

Super-mech re-emerged. "Everything okay?"

"Looks that way."

"And it looks like you've got a message." he said pointing to the flashing green indicator on the transmitter. She pressed a button and his face appeared instantly, static free. His mock-serious voice came through the speaker clear as a bell;

Gemini, this is the Captain of Shadow Mist confirming the accuracy of the selection of the orange wire. Also confirming that said Captain is not in fact a prowler, but rather a regular old mech attempting to be chivalrous. Thanks for the opportunity. Mitchell, out.

Jaina gave him a mocking round of applause. "Well done, Captain Mitchell."

He caught her hand and shook it firmly. "My name is Brock. Or Mitch. No formality necessary. And you are…?"

Jaina's eyes widened. He really didn't know? Well, she wasn't about to ruin this. He'd find out soon enough. "To tell you the truth-- Sparks is starting to grow on me." She offered. "Why don't you stick to that?"

He shrugged. "I suppose a little mystery never hurt anyone."

"We prowlers like our anonymity, you know." She teased. "Good to know you're not one of us."

"Well, I could see you were worried," He retorted, moving out of the cockpit. "Maybe it won't take you quite as long to trust me next time."

Jaina raised her eyebrows. "Next time?"

He jumped down onto solid ground. "You'll be here tomorrow—so will I. I'm sure I can think of something else to bother you about."

Jaina rolled her eyes. "Why not just leave all your tools at home tomorrow?"

He grinned. "I might. Later, Sparks."

_DAY THREE_

_(monday)_

_102523-403_

_I have got to quit being such a spaz! I made a stupid mistake today that turned out much better than expected, even though I got a bit more than I bargained for. ;-) I got the tour of the Mist (Brock's ship) today—it's vaping gorgeous! He showed me everything. On his ship I mean. But while we're on the subject, I guess it's worth a mention that he is—rather well put together… too bad he's not my type at all… _

"So when can I see the inside of this thing?"

Jaina was sitting on a hoverboard beside the Shadow Mist, while Captain Mitchell was sprawled on his back beneath the ship.

"I'm not sure you wanna venture there, it's quite the bachelor pad. Hold this for me, will ya?" he said handing her a cap to the oil tank. She put the cap in her pocket.

This was the third afternoon Jaina had spent at the garage with Brock. In their first meeting, he had come across as rather obnoxious. Then again, she hadn't made the best first impression herself. Cockiness was not a virtue by any means—confidence on the other hand, was intriguing. And Brock had more than enough to be mildly interesting.

"I have brothers; I'm sure it's nothing I can't handle." she asked.

"Well then, I guess we could take a quick tour when I finish this," came his muffled answer from under the ship. Jaina heard a clatter of metal on the ground, and then his voice again.

"Hey, come under here, I want you to look at this tank."

Jaina paused for a minute. "That's a line if I've ever heard one." She mumbled. But that didn't stop her from sliding onto the hoverboard and pulling herself under the ship.

It was a lot warmer in the tight space and Brock nearly bit through his tongue as her brandy gaze bore into his eyes. "It was totally a line—and you took it." He grinned.

Jaina shoved him as much as she could with one hand but he caught her hand and pulled her over to look at the tank.

He showed her his work but was forced to trim back the explanation when her presence beside him became a distraction and a speech impediment.

"Okay, Sparks," he began, after she approved of his work. "Would you go get that black bottle from behind my toolbox and pour the rest of it in the tank?"

"I suppose." Jaina answered, favoring him with a brief smile. She slid out from beneath the ship.

Brock closed his eyes briefly to refocus. Then he finished up his work while his mind wandered shamelessly. He had moved about eight inches to his right to reach his toolbox and he almost smacked his head on the engine when he heard Jaina yelp, "Oh stangit, wait!"

Too late.

Dark blue liquid covered Brock's chest. Luckily, Jaina was enlightened before she poured out the whole bottle. "Vaping moffs!" he cursed, and shoved himself out from under the vessel. Jaina felt ridiculous, but she still fought a giggle at the sight of his greasy blue form. She shrugged sheepishly. "I completely forgot about this," she mumbled, pulling the cap from her pocket. "I'm so sorry!"

Brock was smiling in spite of himself. He stood up and tried to wipe some of the oil off his chest. Jaina grabbed a rag and handed it to him.

"It's okay. I should've realized anyway, I was the one under the hood."

"Yeah, but still," she argued. "I wasted your good oil and messed up your—nice shirt."

Brock glared at her and then at his old cutoff shirt. "I think I can spare one. Excuse me." He said throwing the rag on the ground. He pulled the oily shirt off, leaving streaks of blue in his dark blonde hair. Jaina tried to keep her eyes averted as he wiped the rest of the oil from his chest with his shirt, but found it more difficult than she imagined. She had already seen his arms, but his chest was nicely built as well. And his shoulders were--

_"Oh stop!"_ she caught herself. This guy was a mech and a pilot; i.e. a scoundrel and a roughneck. Dad would hate him. But Mom would like him, perhaps for those reasons alone.

Why am I even thinking about this? she mentally scolded herself. There was no way she wanted anything romantic to between her and this-- stranger. Besides, they were both stubborn as banthas. They'd probably argue constantly and drive each other crazy.

The old Jedi Code raced though her head. _"There is no passion, there is-- just a very slight physical attraction. Hardly an attraction! More like-- an appreciation..."_

"Well, you wanted a tour." Brock said, interrupting her thoughts and starting toward the entrance ramp. "Come on—but you have to hold this." He threw the soiled shirt in her direction and she caught it with disgust. Brock grinned at her expression. Glaring back up at him, Jaina pushed the ancient mantra from her head and chased the bare-chested mechanic into his spacecraft.

DAY SIX 

_(wednesday)_

_112723-406_

_Wow. I don't think I'll ever complain about anything ever again. I can't believe some of the things I heard from Brock tonight. And I feel really awful about keeping so many things from him. But I'll tell him soon, I swear I will. I have to! I'm not sure I can go another day looking into his eyes and not telling him the truth. Those fascinating, sparkly, green eyes..._

"Wake up, Sparks." Jaina heard Brock whisper softly. Her eyelids fluttered open and Brock glanced at her with a smile. She had fallen asleep on top of his toolbox. It was only 2200, but Jaina could barely keep her eyes open. After a moment, she sat up and looked at Brock. She shivered and folded her arms across her chest. "It got cold."

"Just a little."

Jaina pulled her knees up to her chest and sat curled up in a ball.

"How long was I out?" she yawned.

"About half an hour."

"Why didn't you wake me?" she asked rubbing her eyes.

"You needed the rest." he smiled again.

She yawned again. "I need to stay up. I've still got stuff to do."

Brock picked up his screwdriver and kneeled down to put his tools away. "What you need is a break. You've been running like crazy since the day I met you and you've spent all your free time in this garage." He snapped the toolbox shut and looked into her sleepy eyes. "But, if you're gonna stay up, then I'll stay up with you." He stood and picked up the toolbox. "Wait here. I'll be right back."

He ran and put the toolbox in his ship and changed out of his greasy white shirt into a long sleeved navy one. He started to run back out, but stopped and went back to his closet. He grabbed a hooded sweater and returned to Jaina, sneaking up behind her to grab her hand.

"Let's go!"

"Go where?" Jaina asked surprised.

"Out."

"Not in this! I'll freeze!" she said indicating her sleeveless top and ripped jeans. Brock produced the shirt from behind his back. "Do you really think I'm that big of a jerk, that I'd let you freeze?" he smiled. Jaina playfully raised an eyebrow at him and took the sweater.

Brock then realized he was still holding her hand and quickly released it. Jaina didn't notice the abruptness because she had released his hand at the same time to put on the shirt. Brock watched, grinning to himself, as the oversized shirt swamped her petite form. That sweater had never looked better.

"Ready?" he asked as normally as possibly.

"Yeah," Jaina answered noticing the wonderful smell of cologne infused into the fabric. "Let's go."

Six floors up was home to Astraglo, Jaina's favorite caffeine dispenser. During the day, the place was buzzing with business people, but at night, the pace mellowed and the ambiance was downright peaceful. Jaina had spent numerous hours after dark in the warmly lit, conversation-inducing atmosphere of the café. Brock held the door for her as they entered and stood just close enough to her at the counter to make her wish she were at liberty to lean against his shoulder. She quickly cleared her head, ordered drinks for both of them. Then, to her dismay, Brock paid for them.

"You weren't sposed to do that." Jaina said as they sat down in a booth by a window.

"What? Be a gentleman?" he teased. "You make it sound like I spent all this money. It's just a cup of coffee." Jaina shrugged.

Brock took a sip of coffee and looked up at her. "You embarrassed to be seen with me?"

"No! Of course not. I just--"

"Don't want people to think we're on a date." he interrupted, still teasing. "I understand. No problem. It'll never happen again. I apologize for not listening."

"Not listening to what?"

"To you, when you said you just wanted to be friends."

"I never said that!"

"Oh, you didn't?" Brock grinned. "Sweet."

Jaina paused, hoping to glare at him hard enough to make the blush unnoticeable. "Of course I just want to be friends." she recovered. "I barely know you!"

"Oh, well if that's all." He grinned. "I've got all night—what do you wanna know?"

Jaina forcibly steadied her heartbeat— his confidence was becoming even more attractive than his smile. Well, almost.

"Where are you from—and what are you doing on Coruscant?"

Brock thought for a moment. "Flying. And fixing stuff. I've been here almost a year now. I'm originally from Mantessa—Outer Rim. I've spent the past seven years flying and doing mech work in the Dagonian, Sebanese and Teklin systems. I was Captain of Royal Squadron Two on Dagon, but it was getting old. I heard the Planet of All Planets was actually in need of my assistance—so I took a chance and transferred out here. The money's better, the opportunities are better—and the company is infinitely better."

Jaina narrowed her eyes at him. "If you've been here almost a year, how have I never met you?"

"You've never bothered to come out and play with Echo Squad, I guess. How long have you been here on Coruscant?"

Jaina's anonymity was still a source of delight to her. She felt a little bad keeping the truth from him, but she was not about to ruin the evening by divulging her last name.

"Awhile," she finally answered. "I was raised on Anoth but I've spent a decent part of my life flying between here and—everywhere else."

He nodded. "Ah, the nomadic life."

"Speaking of, how'd you wind up so far away from home?"

Brock shrugged. "Home is a strong word. A better question would be 'why don't you live on Mantessa anymore?'" Jaina's face was puzzled, so he continued.

"Me and my brother Gavin left Mantessa when I was twelve. I'm the youngest of four boys. Cole is-- thirty one, I think, Dylan's twenty-nine and Gavin's twenty-five. I'm twenty-three." He paused, realizing that relaying this story meant re-opening a raw place in his heart. He cleared his throat. "You really don't wanna hear this story."

Jaina's brow furrowed. "Yes, I do. Tell me."

"It's not a good story."

"Life is not always a good story," she answered. "You don't have to tell me. But I wish you would."

Brock looked at her for a long moment and wondered why he felt so comfortable spilling his past to a woman who he still only knew by a nickname. Something about her was so authentic, so genuine—that for whatever reason he felt safe. He took a deep breath.

"I lived with my mom and dad and my brothers in a settlement called Soromar. The summer I turned twelve—life just sorta fell apart. Cole, my oldest brother was away at flight school, and Dylan, the next oldest was on his way out. Dyl and I were never really close, until that summer; he taught me to fly. I mean, taught me everything he knew. He was—an incredible pilot. He's the reason I went to the Academy." Brock paused a moment and his internal guilt and grief suddenly flared so strong that Jaina wanted to recoil. He'd had lots of practice hiding those emotions.

"Stang, I haven't talked about this in a long time." he mumbled.

"What happened to Dylan," Jaina asked quietly. Brock caught her gaze and found such intense concern that he continued the story.

"Dad drank—a lot. He and Mom screamed at each other a lot. He was always mad. He hit us and stuff. He beat Dylan up pretty bad a couple times because Dyl tried to protect Mom. One night—it just got to be too much."

Brock was suddenly silent, clearly anguished by his vivid memories. Jaina was in agony, needing to know what happened, but not wanting to push him. She gave him a moment to steady his breathing, then reached across their table, took the last two fingers on his left hand and brushed over them with her thumb. "What happened?" she whispered.

Brock shut his eyes briefly. When he opened them, his gaze became focused on the point of contact she had made with him. Such a small gesture—yet his soul settled almost instantly.

"My brother shot my dad," he mumbled. "And killed him."

Jaina's heart skipped a beat.

"I'd never seen my brother cry before. He apologized to us over and over. He said he loved us and told Gavin to look out for me. And he said for us to get off Mantessa as soon as we could. Mom was unconscious. The medics came and took her and Dad to the hospital. Then the rangers took Dylan... I haven't seen him since. He gave me this." He showed Jaina a silver medallion on a chain with the rough outline of the Republic's seal carved out of the middle.

Jaina fingered the light medallion. "It's beautiful. But what's this?" she asked indicating a triangular piece of metal that hung from the chain. It was about a centimeter thick and in tiny letters across the middle it read, BAM. He smiled briefly. "Memories of better days. After that night, Gavin and I got split up and sent to foster homes. They reunited us once, to visit Mom in the hospital. She told us to leave Mantessa. She gave us permission to take the ship, so we did. That was the last time we saw her. Gavin and I had to go our separate ways to lessen the chances of us being caught. We found out later that she died too. I think that because of her death, Dylan's sentence was lessened—since he was protecting her and us, you know?"

Jaina nodded.

"Anyway, Dylan disappeared. I'm not sure when he got out or where he is. Gavin—we stayed together a few years, living like little vagabond kids. But when he turned seventeen, he decided he needed to get out and try to do something with his life. I was still determined to get into flight school, so I told him to keep the ship and drop me on Chandrila. I learned everything I could, bumming around those shipyards. Finally got a job, which helped me get my hands on an early Academy application. I got in at fifteen. The rest is history." He sighed deeply. "As for the necklace—it's the bottom right half of a heart with my initials, Brock Arren Mitchell. I've had it since I was about five. Dad worked metal and made connecting pieces in the shape of a heart for us four boys. Mom's necklace was a frame that held them all together. Gavin and I promised her we'd all find each other again eventually. And I imagine we will-- put Mom's heart back together. Someday."

The conversation went on for another hour. Jaina's was amazed by Brock's life story. He'd been through a lot of awful things, yet he wasn't bitter. She thought very highly of him, but she didn't say so. Actually, she didn't say much of anything. After his story, she started to feel really guilty about her secret. But she knew that the moment he figured out she was Jaina Solo, things would never be the same. Even though she wasn't interested in a relationship with him, her father had the ability to scare off almost anyone, and she didn't want to change the way things were going.

_"I WILL tell him,"_ she promised herself. "_Just not tonight."_

Their table grew silent after a while and Jaina glanced at her watch. "Oh shoot. It's almost 0245. We should go…"

"Easy, Cinderella." Brock said finishing his now cold cappuchino. He smiled at her as he stood up. "I'll get you home." Jaina eyed him. "Just like dad."

"What is it with you and your nicknames?"

As they left the coffee shop, Jaina suddenly realized that she couldn't go home. It would divulge everything she'd been hiding. She hated deceiving him after he'd been so honest, but she had no choice. She decided to head for her best friend Tenel Ka's house. The walk took five minutes and Brock walked her all the way to Tenel's door.

"Well," Jaina said concealing her nervousness with a smile, "It's been fun."

"Yeah." Brock agreed, grinning back. "It was. And you were right about Astraglo. We'll have to-- go back there sometime."

Jaina smiled coyly. "Sure-- yeah."

He smiled at her and Jaina felt her face warming. She turned and rang the bell before he could see. She sensed Tenel's surprise as she got up to answer the door. Jaina sent her a quick mental message explaining her situation and breathed a sigh of relief when Tenel answered the door with a smile.

"Forget your keys again?"

Jaina grinned. "Goodnight, Brock." she said turning around. "'Night, Sparks." he said with a wink. Then he turned and walked down the hall. Jaina shut the door and gave Tenel a huge hug.

"You're my hero."

Tenel smiled. "And you've got some explaining to do."

END PART ONE


	2. Perfect Strangers: Revelations

_DAY EIGHT_

_(friday)_

_112923-407_

_STANGIT! I did it! He knows! And I think he's mad at me. He seemed really shocked. I thought for sure he would have figured it out. But he didn't. He said he's not mad, but I can just tell. Wish I hadn't made that promise..._

Jaina's mind was light years away from the hyperdrive motivator she was working on. It had been two days since her coffee 'date' with Brock and now every time she looked at him, her conscience burned. He'd been so honest with her—and she hadn't even mentioned her name! She closed her eyes briefly. _"It's not my fault!"_ she reasoned. "_The subject just hasn't come up."_

Nevertheless, she felt bad. She leaned back to look at her work and let the hydrospanner fall to the floor.

"Tired already, Sparks?"

Jaina jumped at his voice. How did he always manage to sneak up on her! "No! No, just—taking a break." She muttered.

He grinned and took a sip from his bottle of water. "Me too. Whatcha workin' on?"

"Hyperdrive. Take a look."

Brock dropped to his knees beside her, scanning her work. "Nice. Looks like you've done this before."

"Yeah, my dad's ship has issues, so I've worked on many a hyperdrive motivator."

Brock nodded. "What's your dad's ship?"

Jaina froze momentarily. Hello Opportunity. She swallowed hard. It was now or never.

"The _Millenium Falcon_."

Brock choked on his water. He coughed loudly for a minute.

"Are you okay?" she offered, lamely.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He recovered from his choking fit and then gave Jaina an incredulous look. He felt ridiculous. The resemblance was obvious.

Brock snorted. "You're Jaina Solo."

"Uh-huh."

"And your dad is—Han Solo."

"Yup."

Brock chuckled, bewildered. "And you didn't find this information important enough to mention—before now."

"You didn't ask." She answered innocently.

Brock rolled his eyes. "Vaping moffs, Jaina…"

"What? It's not a big deal!"

"Obviously it's not for you!"

"So you're gonna be mad at me now?"

"I'm not mad, I just wish you'd told me sooner!"

"Told you sooner! Brock, I've known you, what-- a week!"

"I know, but--"

"And if I had told you," she continued, "What would you have done differently? Honestly?"

Brock shook his head slowly and bent down to pick up the hydrospanner. "I don't know."

Jaina's eyes raked over his form. He was really shocked, and she could tell he felt like a fool. She lightly touched his arm.

"This doesn't change who I am to you!"

He snorted. "It might. Are you allowed to be out galavanting around with roughneck pilots?"

Her hands flew to her hips. "Excuse me, Captain," she answered in a tone edged with disgust. "I choose my own friends. Besides, what makes you think I'm not just a roughneck pilot myself?"

"You're not! You're Jaina Solo! You're a vaping Princess!"

Jaina's eyes grew angry and she put one finger in his chest.

"I could outfly you any day, Captain."

She jerked the spanner from his hand and brushed by him to return to her work. Brock closed his eyes briefly. This was not worth fighting about. He slid in front of the panel where the hyperdrive motivator was located and in front of Jaina's spanner. He put his hand over hers with a sigh.

"Look… I'll take you up on that dare sometime. Just do me a favor and don't—read my mind or anything, okay?"

Jaina lowered the spanner and bit her lip, still a little annoyed. "I wouldn't read your mind, Brock." She answered, indignant. "I can sense emotions, but I would never pry into your personal thoughts or memories without your permission."

"Can I have your word on that?"

Jaina thought quickly. Could she keep that kind of promise? She could. And she would.

"You have my word." she replied.

He smiled. "Thanks. Now I feel slightly less inferior."

Jaina was a little hurt. "I never meant to make you feel inferior. Really. I mean, you were so up front with me the other night, and I felt terrible when I realized you didn't know. It wasn't because I don't trust you, or because I didn't want to tell you, I just-- people tend to freak out if you're related to anyone whose last name is Skywalker."

Brock chuckled nervously, suddenly overcome by the realization that Jaina's grandfather was one of the most infamous Sith Lords in the galaxy and one of the greatest Jedi to ever live. He shook his head and smiled.

"It's okay, Sparks. I'm not going anywhere."

Jaina let a small smile slip. "Really?"

He smiled back. "Really."

"And you promise you're not going to treat me any differently or refer to me as Princess?"

Brock was more focused on the fact that she had grabbed his hand to get his attention than her actual words.

"No matter who or what you are," he answered with a grin. "You'll always be Sparks to me."

Brock and Jaina puttered around the garage all day; talking, working-- and flirting. Brock reveled in the look on her face when he winked at her, and took advantage of the times he could say anything to make her blush. His hopes of really going any further with her had been crucified with the mention of her father. But nevertheless, she was fun to flirt with and wonderful to behold—and it wasn't every day he got to show off a bit in front of a Jedi.

At the moment, he was staring intensely at the various mechanisms involving her sublight engine. He found one tiny oversight.

"You did good, Sparks. There's just one thing. Look here; see this?" Jaina leaned closer to him and further into the engine. "Yeah..."

"It's supposed to be--"

"Ouch!" Jaina yelped. She'd gotten too close to the radiator, which was still hot, and burned her hand. Brock was pretty sure he heard curses in three different languages. He looked at her puzzled, suppressing a chuckle.

"Sparks, are you laughing or crying?"

Jaina looked at him and grinned. "I don't know! But it hurts!"

Brock took her hand and tried to help her to calm down. But he had to force himself not to laugh at her. She was so cute! He gave her a moment to recover and then took her hand. His mouth formed a concerned, slightly confused smile.

"You okay?"

Jaina took a deep breath and grinned back. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Lemme see."

She opened her palm and the inside was red, but not blistered. He stroked her fingers and grinned smugly. "You have nice hands. You should be more careful."

Jaina's eyes narrowed. "You have a nice smile. You shouldn't say things to provoke the rearrangement of your teeth."

"There are lots of things I shouldn't do," Brock laughed, intrigued by her quick wit. "Like make a fool of myself in front of princesses." He paused so she could glare at him, then he smiled at her. "But obviously, I do them anyway because it makes my life more interesting. As do you. Why'd it take me so long to meet you anyway?"

"Because my dad was so overprotective for the longest time about me coming to work here alone." Jaina rolled her eyes. "Apparently I can protect myself from Dark Jedi and nightmarish creatures, but mechanics are an overwhelming threat to my well-being."

Brock grinned. "Hey, he's right. We mechanics are prowlers. I mean, hardcore scoundrels. If you were my daughter, I wouldn't let you come up here at all."

Jaina took a swing at Brock. He made a production out of being hit and pretended to faint. He sprawled beside the ship, tongue hanging out of his mouth. Jaina sank to her knees beside him. She flicked his nose and he opened his eyes.

"Ouch." he said without conviction. Jaina stared at him with a wry smile.

"You are too bold," She muttered with a grin. "But I think I like that about you."

"You like me?" he grinned back, rolling to his side and propping himself up.

Jaina pushed him back down with a sly grin. "You should be so lucky."

_DAY TEN_

_(sunday)_

_120123-410_

_A nice surprise today. Very nice. That's putting it mildly. "Always in motion is the future." You're tellin' me! I don't know what to think now. I have this weird feeling that I haven't felt in a long time. A very long time. But it's different than before. Better. This can't be happening! But-- oh... I think I just lied to my father..._

"So you have no idea who it is?" Jaina asked carrying supper to the table.

"Not really." Leia answered. "Luke only told me it was one of the younger pilots who was promoted to Rogue Squadron. Said he's a good guy with a past similar to his own and that he wants us to meet him. That's all I know."

Jaina sighed. Half of the Republic had been eaten dinner with her family. She didn't mind too much, except for the dressing up.

Fortunately, the brown pants and deep green halter tunic were comfortable. Half of her hair was pulled up in a clip, but a few strands had slid out and were now hanging in her face.

"He didn't give you a name or anything?" Jaina asked.

"Nope. Only what I told you." Leia answered again.

"He's probably thirty or somethin', Jaina." Anakin's voice interrupted as his face appeared in the doorway of the dining room. "You don't have a chance!" He laughed and disappeared before Jaina could find something to throw at him.

Jacen entered the room grinning, having overheard his brother. Jaina looked at him and rolled her eyes. "I swear, sometimes he's like a little clone of you!"

Jacen chuckled. "Yes, I've taught him well, haven't I?"

She rolled her eyes again and walked back into the kitchen.

Leia smiled at her daughter and then her son. "It's like having three of your father!" she said fastening the top button of Jacen's long-sleeved, hunter green shirt. "Mom..." he whined pulling away.

"What's wrong with having three of me?" Han asked entering the room. "Nothing, honey." Leia replied walking over to her husband. She traced her fingers over a pocket on his royal blue shirt and looked into his eyes. "You look very nice."

"So do you." he smiled.

Just as their lips touched, the doorbell rang. Leia sighed and smiled again at her husband. "I'll get it." Han said, giving her a quick hug. Leia rejoined her daughter in the kitchen.

Jaina pushed flyaway hair behind her ears. She heard her father open the door and greet her cousins, aunt, uncle, and the mysterious other. Her mother smiled at her.

"You look beautiful, honey. I'm going to go say hello. Come in when you like." She squeezed Jaina's arm and left the room. Jaina sighed and waited a moment before she walked in.

"Hi Jaya." Luke greeted his niece, with her childhood nickname. "C'mere, there's someone I'd like you to meet." Jaina observed the scene and the people in it. Nothing seemed different. There was her own family, Uncle Luke and Aunt Mara, eight year old Emily, four year old twins; Ben and Caleb and,

"Brock!"

Luke looked surprised. "You two-- know each other?"

"Sure we do." Brock grinned at her. "Sparks and I met at the garage."

Jaina was standing there dumbfounded, and her face broke a smile. "Yeah, the garage." she echoed.

Luke exchanged a look with his sister. She shrugged. Han eyed his daughter and the newcomer questioningly. Jaina would have some explaining to do later.

"Sparks?" Luke asked.

"Long story." Jaina answered, giving her father an innocent smile. "Shall we eat?"

"So you really didn't know I was coming?" Brock asked Jaina over his playing cards.

"Not a clue." she answered. "But I'm glad you did! So... how does it feel to be part of an elite fighter squadron?" She laid down her hand in hopes of a win.

"Oh, I don't know." Brock answered, rearranging his own cards. "I haven't really done much flying with them, so I don't have any stories to tell you. But no more about me," he said displaying his own hand to beat her. He pooled their cards together between them. "I want to talk about you. It would be nice to have an explanation for the past week and a half." Jaina sighed and then looked into his expectant eyes.

"Let's go for a walk. I'll tell you everything."

Despite her husband's poisonous looks, Leia agreed to let Brock and Jaina leave together. She was very impressed with the young man after their dinner conversation. He was so much like her husband, it was unbelievable. Han hated him for the same reason. Brock promised Leia they would return within the next hour.

It was about 21:35 when the couple reached the botanical garden atop the roof of the compound. Most of the roof was a huge greenhouse, which housed beautiful, exotic plants from all over the galaxy. Panels lined the ceiling to protect the plants from rough weather and pollution. Brock and Jaina walked through the garden to a door at the rear of the greenhouse that led to the outside edge of the roof. There, they leaned over the edge and gazed up and down at the city around them. After a moment of silence, Brock turned to Jaina and smiled. She smiled nervously back.

"So, where should I start?" she asked, pulling her Jedi robe tighter around herself.

"How about just your name? You full name." he answered.

Jaina smiled. "Captain Jaina Daye Solo; Jedi Knight."

Brock made a face. "Impressive title for someone who doesn't wish to be known by it."

"I prefer to be known by my actions, as I'm sure you understand, Captain."

Brock smiled. "I apologize. Continue, please."

After giving him a look, Jaina obliged. "I'll be twenty next year, well, Jacen and I will. I'm the oldest. Jacen's younger by three minutes, Anakin by three years." She paused. "I am—a fantastic pilot, a gambler, a lover of music, a pragmatic idealist-- and not so much an adventure seeker as an adventure finder."

Brock nodded, taking notes for later use. "How long have you been—a knight?"

Jaina sighed. "Since I was born, I think. The standards are a little higher when your uncle's The Master. I was forced to grow up pretty fast, so the responsibility comes pretty easily. Flying is my first love—I sometimes more of a priority than it should be—but training is my life now. I can take trials to officially be a Master when I'm twenty-one, so I might do that."

Brock whistled. "Sounds like you stay busy. Any time for a social life?"

Jaina stared him down playfully. "What are you asking?"

Brock shrugged. "Just wondering if there's a—"

"I've been single for almost two years, if that's what you're wondering." She interrupted.

Brock grinned, but was grateful to the night for covering his face. He glanced at her. "I thought you promised not to read my mind."

Jaina held his gaze a moment, a smile tugging at her lips. "You insult me, Captain."

There was a moment of slightly awkward silence, and then Brock asked,

"So…is that all?"

Jaina turned a bit defensive. "What else do you want me to tell you?"

"I don't know. I'm not you! What's interesting?"

"Lots of things—but where do I start? I asked you questions!"

"Is that what want me to do?"

"Well, yeah, I guess! Tell me what you're just dying to know."

"Okay." He paused, thinking. Jaina rolled her eyes. But his question caught her off guard.

"I'm gonna take a chance here." He began. "Since we're sort of on the subject, what do you hate most about the opposite sex?"

Jaina couldn't suppress a grin. "Seriously?"

Brock nodded.

Jaina laughed. "You _are_ bold. And brave. Let me narrow it down."

Brock grinned and ran a hand through his hair.

After a moment of thought, Jaina answered. "Aside from lying, which is the obvious first choice—" she grinned at his reaction. "I'm going to go with the desperate need for control."

"Elaborate."

Jaina sighed. "My exes have all—had plans for me from the beginning that I had no desire to be a part of. I've had guys vying for my hand in marriage since I was twelve; it's ridiculous. I just don't understand the desire to rush into things like marriage and having kids. Especially with me. I'm not the easiest person to live with. Not to mention the fact that the moment anyone gets close to me, they become a target. I'd sort of be surprised if there even was a guy who could put up with me that long."

"So you make a point to stay out of deep, meaningful relationships."

Jaina whipped around to face him and glared viciously. "Your mouth is going to get you in trouble, Mitchell."

Brock threw up his hands. "I didn't mean it like that. I meant—you just surprised me, wanting to sort of-- play it safe on the surface. You seem so passionate about everything, I figured you felt the same way about-- love."

Jaina was silent for a moment, a little amazed by his ability to read her. Part of her said she was crazy for even discussing things like this with him. Another part wondered why she felt so comfortable doing so.

"I'm not so much cynical as I am realistic." She said slowly. "I don't want to spend the quiet moments of my life alone—but if I have to, I'll deal with it. I've been hurt so many times in my life, I guess I just instinctively prepare for the worst."

Brock was half listening, and completely paying attention. Jaina was amazing. He watched her facial expressions and the way her hair fell in front of her eyes as she spoke. He also noticed how her slender fingers traced the bricks that lined the edge of the building and the way her deep brown eyes sparkled in the darkness. She was beautiful, and he was infatuated.

Jaina noticed the faraway look in his eyes. She was suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to browse through his thoughts, but she wasn't about to break her promise, and her nerves wouldn't allow her to concentrate anyway.

She waved a hand in front of Brock's face. "Hello? Did you even hear a word I said?"

Brock snapped out of his reverie and smiled as he met her hand in the air. "I heard every word you said, Sparks. And I don't think you have anything to worry about."

Jaina smiled wryly. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"You're welcome. Even though you don't believe me."

"Oh, so now you can read my mind?" Jaina shot back, trying to ignore the fact that she had allowed him to weave his fingers through hers.

Brock shrugged. "No—it's just, the more I get to know you, the easier it is to see why the future you're dreading is not even a possibility."

Jaina was suddenly embarrassed by how much she enjoyed looking at him. She pulled her hand away from his and smoothed her windblown hair. Brock felt the awkwardness rising and seized the opportunity to change the subject.

"Enough about the future, there's no sense in growing up too fast. Tell me about your childhood."

Jaina told Brock about all the things she endured as a child; kidnappings, separations, being taught about the Force from an early age and being forced to use those skills to protect herself and her family. She told about flying with her dad and the trouble she always got into with her brothers. Brock listened intently, while pushing fantastic thoughts from his imagination. He trusted her to keep her promise, but if she decided to break it, he'd be in trouble.

"So, what do you think of me now, Captain Mitchell?" Jaina asked when she'd finished.

Brock stepped away from the wall and crossed his arms.

"I think—that you're the same person I met that first day in the garage. You're not necessarily the type of person I imagined you'd be. And that's not a good thing or a bad thing… it's just fascinating. You—are quite fascinating."

Jaina couldn't hide her smile. "So you're not going to stop talking to me because of my crazy family?"

"Everybody has crazy family, Sparks. But you are not 'The Solos' or 'The Skywalkers'. You're just Jaina, and that's all I'll ever expect you to be." He turned to face her, and she was already staring at him, an element of pleasant surprise on her face. "Were you not expecting me to say that? Was I supposed to be screaming and running away ten minutes ago?"

Jaina's smile emerged and Brock melted.

"No," She teased. "I figured you'd at least make it through tonight before you decided never to talk to me again."

Brock locked eyes with her. "Trust me, Sparks-- you couldn't get rid of me now if you wanted to." He grinned and it was contagious.

A moment later, Jaina turned her face back to the city, afraid of what might happen if she looked into Brock's eyes one minute longer. Something inside of her snapped when he smiled, burned when he touched her, melted when he winked at her. Her heart was softening, but her head would let her die before admitting it to anyone. She was so engrossed in her thoughts that the soft raindrops on her face barely interrupted her reverie.

Brock glanced at the lightning as it cracked across the sky, and then returned his attention his beautiful company, suddenly wondering what it would be like to kiss her. He blinked deliberately trying to draw some sense back into his head. "Maybe we should head back," he said, stepping away from the wall.

Jaina pulled her robe around herself. "Why? You afraid of a little thunderstorm?" she teased.

Brock rolled his eyes. "No, I would just hate to see you melt, Sugar-princess." He retorted with a sly grin. "Not to mention I don't want to give your father any reason to be mad at me on my first visit."

"I guess that's a good reason." She smiled and took his arm, heading back inside the compound.

ONE HOUR LATER...

"Jaina, come into the den. I wanna talk to you."

Jaina barely heard her father. She was still a little lightheaded from Brock's wonderful goodbye hug. They had never been that close before. And his arms were so strong. And his smile was just--

"Jaina!"

She snapped back to reality at the sound of her father's voice. "Coming, daddy." she called, hurrying into the den. Leia was seated in the self-conforming chair and Han motioned for Jaina to sit down on the couch. She did so silently. Han, for intimidation purposes, remained standing, but after a look from Leia, he too sat down and he looked directly at his daughter.

"So, do you just want to tell me, or do I have to pull it out of you?"

"I don't know. What do you want me to tell you?"

"Don't give me the innocent crap, Jaina!" Han exploded off the couch. "A twenty-five year old fighter pilot that I've never met before, comes sauntering into my house this afternoon. I find out that you've been seeing him behind my back, and I'm not supposed to be angry! And now, you can't figure out what I want you to tell me!"

"Han--" Leia said warningly.

"And who is Sparks!" he asked incredulously.

"Daddy! Let me explain--"Jaina sighed and closed her eyes briefly. "Okay. First of all, he's twenty-_three_, and I have not been 'seeing' him. He is not my boyfriend and he's not going to be!" She felt a little funny making that statement, but she ignored her feelings and focused on her explanation. "I met him a little over a week ago at the garage. I was working on the Gemini and his ship was parked next to mine. It was a gorgeous ship and while I was looking around, he popped out from underneath it and scared me half to death. We see each other at the garage sometimes and he helped me fix my molecular transmitter. He's a good mech and we're friends. That's all."

"Why did he call you Sparks?"

Jaina explained about the torch. Leia smiled. "Han, stop rolling your eyes. I think it's cute."

"It is not cute. You are not to see him anymore."

"Daddy!"

"That's the end of it! I was twenty-three once—and twenty-three year old guys like him don't make 'friends' with girls like you. You will not be going back to that garage alone."

"Han, stop it." Leia said rising from her chair. "You're not being reasonable. There is nothing wrong with that boy. I don't know why you're acting this way."

"I do." Jaina spoke up. She too stood and faced her father. "Daddy, just because Brock is not some Senator's son, doesn't mean he is an unsuitable—person to be around. I know I'm your only daughter and I'm supposed to be dignified and sophisticated and whatever, but that's not who I am and you know it!" She approached her father and looked into his eyes. "I'm nineteen years old, Daddy. You and Mom brought me up right-- now you have to trust me. I know you've never liked any of the guys I've made friends with--"

"That's not true." Han cut her off.

Jaina sighed. "Yes it is, and you don't like Brock either. You shouldn't judge him though-- because you're really a lot alike. You need to give him a chance."

The women looked expectantly at Han, and after a moment of unanimous silence, he spoke. "I do trust you, Jaina. But I won't have you going behind my back like this. I can--"

"I wasn't trying to go behind your back, Daddy."

"Let me finish. I don't expect you to tell me everything, but this is something important. When it comes to guys, I want to know who is influencing my daughter. I want you to be friends with good, upstanding men. Not garage scum."

Jaina and Leia looked disapprovingly at her him.

"And I'm not saying Brock is garage scum." he muttered. Jaina looked at him expectantly and Han sighed, then shrugged.

"I trust your judgment."

Jaina smiled and hugged her father. "Thanks, Dad. I love you."

"Yeah, I know." Han answered. "I love you too. But don't ever do this again."

END PART TWO


	3. Perfect Strangers: Tristan

PERFECT STRANGERS: PART III

_Author Notes: Imperial Rank in this story goes Captain, General, Commander, Lieutenant. And in this story, there are still guitars and forms of kareoke and swing dancing, so get used to it. _

_Dedication: Nick and Jake, (Mycenae and Cerberus), thanks for your invaluable suggestions and ideas. Caitie, thanks for the motivation! Oh yeah, and Joey, don't dish it out if you can't take it!_

The forest was bleak and chilly and the trees hung lifelessly as if they were sobbing. Tristan Lockhart wandered cautiously down the narrow path. Every time the wind howled, her hand flew to the lightsaber at her belt. Her smoky brown hair blew in her face as she looked around for any signs of danger. Suddenly, a loud clap of crackling thunder sounded and Tristan dropped to one knee. She looked into the sky where the lightning seemed to swirl together into one huge deadly current. Tristan felt a strong disturbance in the Force and immediately drew her burgundy lightsaber. Without warning, the lightning came down around her as if it had been strategically fired. Blackened tufts of grass created a dark circle around her. Heartbeat accelerating, she raced further down the path which ended abruptly in a clearing surrounded by trees. Bad place to be in a storm, she thought. But there was nowhere else to go. She felt the disturbance growing stronger. She assumed a fighting stance, and just as she was about to look into the sky, she sensed something else. A power stronger and deeper than even her own. It caught her off guard long enough to draw her attention away from the sky. The moment she looked back, the sky had turned to a deep green. Again the electricity swirled, but this time, it too was shaded green. Realizing it was too late to protect herself, Tristan screamed as the bolt of lightning came toward her--

...and she awoke in a cold sweat.

Admiral Tristan Lockhart sat upright in bed, panting as if she had just run a marathon. Her lightsaber hummed as the maroon beam of light and energy illuminated the room. "Computer, what time is it?"

"The time is 05:00."

Too early to get up. Too unsettled to sleep. This wasn't the first time she'd had that dream. What did it mean? She deactivated her lightsaber and slid out of bed. She laid the saber down on her dresser and walked to her refresher. She closed the door, shed her sleepwear, and slid into the shower. As the warm water ran over her shoulders, she let her mind wander...

Back to that dusty floor six years ago, when she decided that she could no longer go on this way. Her entire body had felt like lead as she tried to conquer the vicious hangover. Even though her thoughts were groggy, she knew she had hit rock bottom. She remembered all that she had come from and all that she used to be. She had once dreamed of becoming a great Jedi, feared and respected by all. But she had lost her powers in a freak accident about ten years before. It had killed her spirit and destroyed her hope of a successful future. She had sought out many different people to help her restore her power, but no one would help her. No one _could_ help her. Even her family had forgotten her and was nowhere to be found.

She looked around at where she was then and what she had become; a weary, wisp of a woman, forsaken by the Force and all humankind. She never dreamed of living her life all alone. If only she had...

Well, it was too late to change the past. But she still had a chance to alter her future. She decided in that moment that there was nothing left for her on Y'Eneth. There had never been anything to begin with. The next morning, not having a clue as to where she was headed, she boarded a supply shuttle en route to some planet on the Outer Rim. Though the pilot seemed a bit suspicious, she tagged along anyway, knowing she had nowhere else to turn. She flew with the man, called Draven, to drop his cargo, unaware that he was a smuggler, bringing weapons to the tiny remnants of the old Empire. In passing, Draven inquired who she was and where she had come from before Y'Eneth.

"I'm a Jedi Knight." she lied. "And I'm wandering around looking for pieces of the old Empire to destroy." Obviously Draven didn't pick up the sarcasm in her voice, or was simply overcautious. He delivered her into the hands of his superior, Grand Admiral Bucheit.

There was a big gap after that. She learned later that she had been stunned. After being severely drugged and analyzed, the Grand Admiral was shocked to discover that she wasn't simply a smart aleck inebriate, but rather a Force adept with not enough midi-chlorians in her blood to account for anything.

The drugs they had administered were strong and the woman would not revive for a while, so the Grand Admiral had some time to think about how he would deal with her when she awoke. From what Draven had told him, she seemed a bit desperate; for what he did not know. Since she did have a few shards of Force power within her, perhaps she could be persuaded to convert to evil. He had heard legends about the old Sith Lords and remembered that fear and anger was what made them powerful. A Dark Jedi would be of great value to his crew. Then again, if something went wrong, she could turn against him and become a menace. Bucheit was already despised by most of his crew, and the last thing he needed was someone powerful who could become a threat. Maybe he would just make her a part of the crew, put her to work with the rest of the worthless scum onboard. No, she was worth more than that. He would hate to see a woman of her beauty collaborating with some of the miserable wretches on that ship. Perhaps she would become his personal servant. He smiled at the thought. Yes, that would be quite enjoyable.

When the woman awakened the next day, she was restrained to her bed in the med center. Grand Admiral Bucheit was circling her like a hungry vulture.

"Thought you were going to overthrow us, did you Jedi?" he asked with an evil grin.

Disoriented from the harsh sedatives, she remembered being absolutely terrified at that moment. "No-- no. Of course not." she sputtered.

Bucheit laughed. "That isn't what you told my smuggler. "So not only are you a reject of society, but a liar."

The woman's fear was quickly overcome by anger. Who did this jerk think he was? He had no right to insult her, and then laugh at her.

"That doesn't seem very Jedi-like." he continued.

"Who said I was a Jedi?" she snapped back.

"You did, actually. My smuggler Draven informed me."

"Well, he's the liar. I'm not a Jedi. Though it wouldn't take one to overthrow this piece of crap." she muttered.

Bucheit's devilish grin disappeared and she suddenly felt the sting of his hand across her face. "How dare you disrespect me, Jedi!" She was more feisty than he had expected.

"I'm not disrespecting you," she fumed. "I'm telling the truth. And quit calling me Jedi. I'm not one. I'm sure you've checked up on me. You know there's nothing there. It's all gone."

"Gone?" he echoed.

"Yes gone." she repeated. "There's not a thing I wouldn't do to get it back. And believe me I've tried everything. I gave up-- well, look at me now! Like you said earlier, I don't look very Jedi-like. And if you slap me again, you won't live to regret it."

Bucheit burst into laughter and drew his weapon from its holster. "I don't believe you're in any position to be making threats. Not while you're cuffed to that bed and I have this blaster." He slammed his hand down onto the bed right near her face and leaned down closer to her. "I don't usually tolerate disrespect from my crew-- but you'll soon learn. Even the wildest beasts can be broken. And how I look forward to breaking you, my dear."

The woman's rage continued to build, but somehow, she kept it inside. No one had provoked her in a long time and her anger flowed like fire through her veins. It wasn't so much that she wanted to be angry, she just liked the feeling it gave her. Power. Power that hadn't been there for a long time. She would _not_ be broken. Especially not by this man.

Bucheit glared at her. "I haven't made you angry have I?" he grinned. "You know it's a shame you chose to become a mere Jedi Knight rather than a Sith. Your temper and fiery nature would have made you powerful."

The woman's eyes widened. The Dark Side? Was that what she was feeling? Could it really be the Force? Of course! Why hadn't she thought of it before?

"If I could do it again I would." she answered grimly. "I'd give anything to regain my power. Even work with you."

Bucheit laughed again in disbelief. "You're a bit too good to be true, my dear girl. First you appear out of nowhere claiming to be a Jedi, and now, admitting that you have "lost" your powers, you decide that you wouldn't mind turning to evil and fighting with me!" The Grand Admiral guffawed.

As Bucheit's laughter increased, the woman's anger and the mysterious power within her grew stronger. "Stop laughing." she thought, her eyes narrowing. "Stop laughing." He didn't. The power surged through her. Suddenly, in a rage, she broke free of the bed and using the Force, yanked the Grand Admiral's blaster from his hand. "STOP LAUGHING AT ME!" she growled and then shot him square in the chest. The action surprised even herself. Her mouth dropped open as she watched the Grand Admiral slump to the floor, knocking over antibiotics and exam equipment as he fell.

But as he fell, she rose. Her body, her state of mind, and the new dark spirit within her. So much transpired in those few seconds. The Dark Side had come so easily and it felt so good! But what if she couldn't control it? She already felt herself becoming addicted, and she had only dabbled in it. "Can I control this power?" she thought. "Or will it conquer me?" After only a second, she smiled and pointed the blaster at the door. She didn't care if it conquered her. She wanted it.

The guards outside, hearing the commotion, scrambled into the med center only to find their leader dead and a newly empowered Dark Jedi glaring at them down the barrel of a high-power blaster.

The guards had enough sense not to provoke the woman any further. They dropped their weapons on the floor. "Alright, ma'am, listen." the first spoke "We don't want to inflict any harm on you."

"As if you could if you wished to." she interrupted icily.

"Could you-- please tell us who you are and-- what happened."

The woman's eyes flicked from guard to guard and she shook her head. "I wanna know who you are first. What ship is this? And where are we?"

"I'm General Jaicob Cerberus. We're in the Crytka Sector on the Star Destroyer Artemis."

The Dark Jedi approached the General and shoved the blaster into his temple. "Take me to your first officer."

THREE WEEKS LATER...

(monday afternoon)

_122223-431_

_Vaping moffs, it has been accomplished. Can you believe it? I can't! This is mad crazy. I don't know what this guy is doing to me... but so far, I think I like it... :)_

Brock slid into a booth at the Mercury Sol Cafe across from his best friends since flight school, Jeremy Salinas and Zane Cooper. He hadn't spoken with them in weeks; not even Jeremy, who he shared an apartment with. He had been so busy with Rogue squadron-- and Jaina-- that he had been a ghost. Since Zane and Jeremy were still on Echo squadron, their schedules conflicted with his.

"Mitchie! Where in the blazes have you been?"

"Around." he grinned smugly. "Busy with Rogue and all, but—more importantly—I met somebody."

Zane rolled his eyes. "Oh, is that all? I thought this was something important."

Jeremy took a huge bite of his sandwich. "Is she hot?"

"She's-- incredible, Sal."

"That's not what I asked."

Brock sighed, slightly frustrated, but his face broke into a grin as he pictured her face. "Her name-- is Jaina,"

No response.

"Solo."

Jeremy dropped a handful of stick fries. "Come again?"

Zane stared at Brock, one eyebrow raised. "Come on, Mitchie, you expect us to believe that just because you got moved up to Rogue, Han Solo's handed his only daughter over to you?"

"Yeah, gimme a break, man." Jeremy added. "Since when is Jaina Solo slummin' it with flight academy scum?"

Brock glared at his friends and then snorted. "I can't believe you don't believe me."

Zane laughed loudly. "Hell, no! I'll believe you when I meet her."

Suddenly, Brock's mobil-comm buzzed on his belt. "This is Mitchell," he answered.

"Yeah, this is Captain Solo looking for Rogue Eight," a familiar voice replied. "Do you have any idea where I might find him?"

Brock face widened into a grin. "I believe you can find him at the Mercury Sol Café, waiting on a princess."

He could see her scowl. "Well, he'll have to settle for a sweaty Jedi today. I've been out running and I've got sparring practice in about thirteen minutes—but I need to ask you something."

"Well, do come find me and ask away. I've actually got some friends for you to meet if you've got a minute."

Another pause. "Brock, I just told you I'm gross and sweaty. I may not be anything like my mother but I've learned enough from her to know that right now would not be the best time to make a first impression."

"Sparks, shut up. You're beautiful-- you're always beautiful. Now come in here and meet my friends."

"I am not beautiful!"

Brock turned to face the window and saw her form approaching. "You are too, I can see you. Walk faster." He grinned and disconnected the call.

"Who was that?" Jeremy asked.

"You'll see in a minute."

Jaina drew a deep breath as she neared the door to Mercury Sol Cafe. She ran her fingers through her hair quickly, then swung open the door and tried to look inconspicuous. She searched the small restaurant and her eyes lit up when she found Brock. He was sitting at a table with two other guys. She quietly started toward their table.

Zane and Jeremy's eyes widened as Jaina Solo's face peeked around the corner of their booth. Brock's face broke into a grin and he scrambled to stand up from the table. "Guys, this is the girl I was telling you about."

"Hi." Jaina immediately stuck her hand out. "I'm Jaina. I'm sweaty, and messy and about to be late for practice, but it's nice to meet you."

Zane and Jeremy chuckled in disbelief as they took turns shaking her hand. Jaina felt disgusting, so she made her introductions as short as possible; she hadn't realized Brock ran with such an attractive crowd. Jeremy had short black, hair warm almond shaped eyes and a broad, charming smile, while Zane had darker skin, green eyes, curly dark brown hair and a goatee on his face. They couldn't have been much older than Brock, and for a moment Jaina wondered where the three of them had been hiding for the past five years.

She grabbed the sleeve of Brock's shirt. "While I'd love to stay and chat, I've gotta haul jets. Practice starts—like now. But um-- could I talk to you for a second? In private?"

Brock's heart skipped a beat. "Yeah, sure." he answered. "Excuse me, fellas."

Jeremy started laughing again and Zane just shook his head in disbelief.

Brock opened the door for Jaina as they walked outside and stood in the window of the Mercury Sol Cafe. Jaina glanced in the window at Jeremy and Zane. She grinned and shook her head. "I guess I caught them off guard!"

Brock scratched his head. "You have that effect on people. Did you need to ask me something?"

"Yeah, about that… okay, there's gonna be this banquet-type deal on Saturday night for the Dzani Ambassador. It's a big, elaborate, thing with snobby royal people, dancing and eating and whatever."

Brock smiled. "Sounds like fun."

Jaina shrugged and smiled back. "Not really. Jacen, Anakin, and I are required to go, but having the right company could make or break the evening." She paused, clearing her throat. She used the Force to slow her racing heart, and she just knew her face was pink. Brock's heart sped up too, but he played it cool, and smiled. "Very true."

Jaina glared at him with half a grin on her face. "You're not gonna make this easy, are you?"

Brock grinned. "Have I ever made anything easy, Sparks?"

Jaina rolled her eyes, sighed, and looked up at him. "Do you wanna come to the banquet with me?"

Brock laughed. "I didn't think you could do it!" She punched him in the stomach playfully. Brock quieted his laughter and smiled at her. "But really, I would love to be your escort, Sparks."

"Really?"

"Of course! I look forward to seeing you in all of your royalty, Your Highness."

Jaina glared at him, a smirk on her face, and swung at him again. He caught her fist. "You are so obnoxious." she growled, grinning, despite her struggle to free herself. "I'm not obnoxious." Brock said grinning back. "I'm-- playfully obstinate."

Jaina laughed and after a moment, got her broad smile under control. "I'll let you get back to your friends."

"The scenery out here is infinitely better—but okay." He smiled at her. "Later, Sparks."

Then unexpectedly, he pulled her close and hugged her goodbye. Jaina tensed at first, but quickly relaxed and returned the embrace.

Flanked by the guards, the Jedi made her way to one of the first officers of the ship, General Kieran Adelae.

"General Adelae, sir." Cerberus addressed him. "We've had an incident. As of today, you--"

"Will still be addressed as General Adelae." she finished for him. She walked up and looked the General in the eye. Recognizing her as the mysterious guest who had come aboard a few days ago, he stood to address her.

"Identify yourself, Jedi."

"What is it with you guys?" She sneered. "If you must address me, you may call me Lockhart." She had thought that up on the way over. It seemed appropriate.

"I am a daughter of the Sith," she continued. "and the new authority on this ship, due to the untimely death of Grand Admiral Bucheit. I can assume this responsibility because I have the Force on my side and am not only a great asset to your crew, but also more powerful than any of you."

The crew looked at her utterly confused and bewildered.

"If any of you wish to challenge my authority--"

"Wait just a moment, Lockhart." Another young officer interrupted. Lockhart aimed the blaster in the direction of his voice. "Who are you?"

"That doesn't concern you." He answered. "You cannot simply barge onto our vessel and declare yourself Admiral." He stepped toward her unafraid. He pointed his own blaster at her and motioned for everyone else to clear the area.

"Prove yourself, Jedi."

Lockhart's anger swelled again, and once more, she felt the rush from the power it gave her. She would prove herself indeed. Holstering her weapon, she beckoned him to commence firing. He did so, and using her newfound Force ability, Lockhart deflected and escaped every blast. Yes, using the Force was quite like flying a ship; once you learned how, it was hard to forget. She only hoped her lightsaber training would come so easily.

After more than seven minutes of rolling and dodging, Lockhart grew tired of the hotshot officer and in another surge of wrath, quickly tackled him, seized his weapon, and shot him in the shoulder.

Lockhart rose from the ground and looked around at the amazed crew. "Don't just stand there!" she bellowed. "Get him to medical."

Cerberus nodded. "Taurus, Deco."

Two of the lieutenants came and took the man from the floor and away to the med center.

Cerberus turned to address the bridge. He eyed Lockhart for a moment and then cleared his throat. "Attention crew of the Artemis. I believe this Jedi has proved herself to be a worthy and fearless leader. She is indeed powerful and we should be honored by her presence. Does anyone have an objection to this selection of this woman as our new Admiral?"

No one spoke a word. Lockhart suppressed a proud smile.

"Very well." he continued. "Welcome, Admiral Lockhart. Carry on."

Cerberus approached the Jedi woman. "I apologize for the disrespect you were shown, Admiral." he said quietly.

Lockhart looked up him and nodded. "No apology is needed, General. Who was the man I shot?"

"A General. Nicolas Mycenae is his name."

Lockhart nodded her head in contemplation. "Alright. See to it that he is promoted to Captain." Cerberus' mouth nearly fell open. "I admire his courage and audacity." she continued. "He will be my first officer. And you my second, General Cerberus."

Boy, she didn't waste any time. "Yes si-- ma'am. Thank you, Admiral. Allow me to escort you to your quarters."

When Grand Admiral Lockhart spent the rest of the evening in her new quarters re-adapting herself to the Force, pondering where to obtain a crystal for the lightsaber she would construct, and deciding on a new first name for herself. As she stepped into the refresher early that morning after her strenuous, all night workout, she felt satisfied. For the first time in a long time. She had left Shpkeen in search of a new beginning, and she had certainly found one.

And in that moment, Grand Admiral Tristan Lockhart was born.

SIX YEARS LATER...

Admiral Lockhart left her quarters earlier than usual that morning. She had been unable to return to sleep after her disturbing dream, but it was just as well. An exciting day was in store for the crew of the Artemis. This very morning would begin the destruction of the New Republic and the rise of the new Empire. At long last, the plans she had worked so hard to devise were going to be carried out. She walked out to the main bridge where she was met by a surprised Captain Mycenae. He was overseeing the finishing touches for the first phase of the project.

"Good morning, Admiral. Anxious to begin your revenge this morning?" he smiled slyly.

"Of course. I've waited six years for this, Mycenae. Where are Taurus and Cerberus?"

"I haven't seen them this morning, Admiral."

"Well, I suggest you get them out here at once." She turned back to the door. "I have some work to do before we carry out the first phase of this project. I trust you are doing a satisfactory job of overseeing, and so I leave you in charge. Inform me when we reach our destination. I will be in my quarters."

"Yes, Admiral."

As Tristan walked back to her chambers she turned over ideas in her head for the umpteenth time. The strategy was simple. Monitor the students and their master until she discovered the easiest way to destroy them both. Of course, what she _wanted_ was to go straight to Skywalker and confront him in battle. Oh, what joy it would give her to cut him down in front of his own students!

But it would not be that easy. Tristan sighed and opened her door. If she could not kill him, she would make his life miserable. It served him right after he had caused her so much pain.

The Star Destroyer _Artemis_ barreled through hyperspace at top speed.

Captain Mycenae's boots clicked on the floor as he approached the Admiral's quarters and buzzed the comm outside.

"Come in." came the unemotional reply.

Mycenae entered the room to find datapads scattered all over the living area, and Admiral Lockhart staring at mottled starlines through her huge port window.

"We will be within range in five minutes, Admiral."

"Very well." she answered. "I shall be there in a moment. Get Coruscant onscreen immediately."

"As you wish. Is everything alright, Admiral?"

Tristan turned around slowly. "Of course everything is alright, Captain. I am about to wreak revenge on my arch rival! I've never been better. Now leave me."

Mycenae obeyed, closing her door. She'd been so tense lately, so serious. Of course she was always serious. But she usually acted differently with him. He had a way of lightening her mood. The two had been close for some time now. Though most Imperial affiliations were run every man for himself, the Admiral and the Captain had become allies over the years. She had no trouble confiding in him, and he in her, and on the rare occasions when they were alone together and off duty, they addressed each other casually, as Nicolas and Tristan. Nicolas was especially pleased with this position. He'd been attracted to her ever since that first meeting when she'd shot him in the shoulder. A six year infatuation! He knew it was crazy, but he couldn't help it.

Six years. They had actually passed quickly. About three weeks after conquering the Artemis, Admiral Lockhart left the ship and went off to some unknown world. Before leaving, she entrusted Nicolas with the ship and the crew, making him vow not to betray her or she would certainly terminate his life. He really had nowhere else to go and he was in no hurry to part with his head, so he chose to remain loyal. Tristan returned before long with an aura about her that radiated power and undaunted courage as well as a burgundy lightsaber that would cut down the enemies and traitors who would dominate their future.

Tristan was actually surprised to return and find the ship in good order and no crew members missing. Nicolas had made good on his promise, and from that point on, she began to really trust him. She realized that her first judgments about him had been correct, and he would not soon disappoint her as first officer.

Nicolas had a great respect for Tristan from the very beginning. He admired her bravado and her confidence. But he would never forget their humble beginnings. There had once been a time when he was more powerful than she, when it came to knowledge of the ship. It was during that time, when he was helping to familiarize her, that the two had become allies. Mycenae didn't mind being under her leadership and Tristan learned to trust his seasoned wisdom. Apart, they had been a danger to each other, but together, they became unstoppable. Perhaps it was because she was so different from their previous leaders. She was the third Admiral the ship had seen and she had by far been the most productive. As well as the most beautiful. Though he knew it was ludicrous, Nicolas longed for the day when Tristan would realize what a wonderful team they made.

Over the next few years, Tristan's power increased and she became a powerful Daughter of the Sith, feared and respected by the entire crew and many of the planets they visited. But she was not alone in her accomplishments. The crew had spent the first of those six years building their strength and numbers. They now had a few fleets of fighter pilots who were on call and ready to fight, as well as restored TIE Fighters, and plenty of officers to run the ship. They were the beginning of a New Empire and they couldn't wait to reach the destiny that was in store for them.

The missions and expeditions that they had been on so far had been only to flex their muscles and gain some recognition. As far as they knew, the New Republic was unaware of their presence. It was not until about a year ago that Tristan decided it was time to seek her revenge on Luke Skywalker. She had spent much time planning the action she would take and they were now in the process of carrying out her plans. It was about time her troops saw a real fight. Yes, Luke Skywalker would pay for the pain he had inflicted on her and the rest of the Old Empire.

END PART THREE


	4. Perfect Strangers: Tonight, Tonight

PERFECT STRANGERS: PART IV

_TUESDAY NIGHT..._

_122323-432_

_I HATE MY BROTHER! He is so completely wrong and just-- evil! He comes in here and starts telling me how I feel like he knows what's going on in my head! He only thinks he knows—and I've got to keep it that way. **Sigh** This is getting out of hand. I don't feel in control of my emotions anymore. It's scary and weird... but not really in a bad way... Sith, I have really gotta quit the caffeine after 20:30..._

Jaina stood in front of the mirror, absent-mindedly brushing her hair, thinking. The banquet was in three days. And it was not going to be just another day at the garage. She wasn't sure what to expect. She wasn't sure about Brock. She didn't want him to embarrass himself, but she wasn't sure if he knew how to act.

"What am I thinking! How could I be such a jerk! Of course he knows how to conduct himself. He's been a perfect gentleman since the first day I met him. I'm ashamed that I even--"

"Jaya, could you please contain your excitement?" Jacen asked leaning into his sister's room. "I can feel you all the way in the other room."

Jaina snapped out of her thoughts and immediately erected mental barriers. "What are you talking about?" she answered nonchalantly.

"Your date, of course." Jacen walked over and stood next to her, arms crossed. "You haven't brought a date to a banquet in years!" he exclaimed. "You must really like this guy, huh?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Jacen rolled his eyes. "Okay fine, we don't have to talk about it. I already know what you think of him."

"You do not! How dare you probe my mind, Jacen!"

Jacen threw up his hands. "You insult me! You honestly believe anyone in this house needs a mind probe to know what you think of Brock Mitchell?"

"Would you shut up! Really." Jaina threw her brush onto the bed. "You have no idea what I really think of him—because I don't even know!"

"Oh, you know." he countered, sauntering toward her. "I've seen the way you act around him. How you just about melted the other night when he hugged you. I've sensed your emotions changing when he gets close to you. I've felt your heart speed up when he smiles at you. And I--"

"Shut up!" Jaina shouted, shoving him away. She felt violated. "You have no right to pry into my personal thoughts! There is nothing going on between me and Brock, so just drop it!" Jacen fell silent for a moment to let her cool down.

"I'm not prying, Jaina." he said quietly. "It's just—this vaping twin thing, you know? I'm sorry."

Jaina sighed. She did know. And that's why she couldn't be upset.

"I know," she answered softly. "I'll try to contain myself around him." She smirked. "If you will please just make a bigger effort to respect my privacy."

Jacen started toward the door. He turned and flashed her a lopsided grin. "I'll work on it." He left her room, without another word.

Jaina rolled her eyes. _Leave it to Jacen to get me worked up over something as trivial as this banquet. He has no idea what I really think of Brock, he just--_

Just then, Jaina caught sight of her computer's auxiliary screen. Bouncing around in huge purple letters were the words:

YOU WANT HIM BAD.

SAME TIME, DIFFERENT PLACE...

Thunk. "Seven."

Thunk. "Fifteen."

Thunk. "Twenty one."

Thunk. "Thirty six."

Jeremy looked up from his magazine and stared at Brock for a moment. "You alright, Mitch? You've been putting holes in that board for an hour."

Brock chunked the last dart at the board and sighed. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just messin' around."

Jeremy shook his head. "Stang, she's controlling your mind already."

Brock turned abruptly. "What? What're you talking about?"

"Your princess, of course."

"What? I'm not even thinkin' about her! There are so many other things I have to think about."

"Oh really? Like what?"

Brock ignored the question. "Besides, why should I waste my time? I'm really starting to think she's not my type."

Jeremy pulled off his glasses and laughed. "You think she's out of your league?"

"Of course not! I just don't know if I wanna get into all that-- you know, political crap."

"What political crap?"

"Well, okay-- she asked me to go with her to this-- banquet thing. It's at some fancy reception center and all of these off-world senators and governors and crap are gonna be there. I don't really wanna be surrounded by a bunch of spoiled, power-hungry politicians making speeches for hours and--"

"Then what'd you say?"

Brock paused. "Are you kidding? You really think I could say no to her?"

Jeremy burst into laughter and stood from his chair. "Mitch, you're pathetic."

"I'm not-- man, shut up!"

"Just wait." he continued, walking into the kitchen. "In a couple of weeks, you'll be walkin' around this place asking me to fetch your slippers and brandy."

Just then, the doorbell buzzed and Zane and Lucy Romero entered with a stack of three pizzas.

"Dinner!" he announced.

"Sorry, man," Jeremy called from the kitchen. "Looks like we might be splitting Mitchie's-- unless you remembered the caviar topping..."

Brock quickly pulled apart the dart he was holding and threw the flag at Jeremy, who cursed as he dodged the dull projectile.

"I will vaping kill you, Sali!"

Zane cocked an eyebrow at Lucy. "Did we miss something?"

Jeremy grinned mischievously and took his pizza from Zane.

"Yeah, Mitchie's hot for that princess."

"Princess?" Lucy asked.

Brock chunked a pillow at Jeremy. "Sithspawn!"

Jeremy deflected the shot and laughed again. A smile crept onto Zane's face as he handed Brock his pizza.

"Hey, go for it, man. She's--"

Lucy shot him a playful glare.

"—seems like an amazing person." he finished safely. "Besides, I think she's kinda sweatin' you already."

"Yeah, she is," Jeremy answered. "She vapin asked him to a banquet."

Zane's eyes widened as he moved toward the living room chair. "And you said yes?"

"Of course I did!" he shouted defensively. "You saw her!-- Sorry, Luce."

Lucy rolled her eyes.

"Alright, my man!" Zane said with a grin. "Movin' up to first class! Off to your first big executive party."

"Somebody wanna explain to me what's going on? Mitchie?" Lucy asked, squeezing between Brock & Jeremy on the couch. Brock gave his best female friend a slice of his pizza and then quick rundown on the situation as Zane and Jeremy demolished their dinner.

For quite a while, Lucy Romero had been Brock, Zane and Jeremy's single link to the female world. She had revealed enough to them about fashion, romance, and the minds of women to keep them forever in her debt.

However, Lucy was also one of the best fighter pilots on Echo squadron and because of her ability to get into risky situations and then miraculously get out of them, she had earned the nickname Lucky. Zane and Lucy had been close friends since they were eight years old. During their childhood, the two decided that when they became old enough, they would attend the Academy together. Beautiful and friendly, Lucy became instantly popular with the male pilots. She earned their respect by proving to be better than most of them. She had long, dark hair, a flawless complexion that looked forever tanned, and large almond shaped eyes that kept Zane wrapped around her little finger. But she seemed to be unaware of her own power, which made her even more attractive.

Lucy listened enthusiastically to Brock's story of his good fortune, and when he reached the end, she grinned.

"Sounds like you've been keeping yourself entertained! And you've done fine on your own so far, but you gotta get some new threads for the banquet-- cause they won't let just any grease monkey into one of those things." She elbowed him playfully.

Brock stopped chewing. "Good point. What do you wear to something like that?"

"That, my friend, is where I come in."

Admiral Lockhart entered the bridge and her crew snapped to attention once again. General Cerberus stood and walked to her side. "I apologize for the delay this morning, Admiral. I didn't expect you to be awake so early. We have Coruscant onscreen now."

Admiral Lockhart ignored his apology and suppressed a smile. She could already sense the strong presence of the Jedi. She turned to the viewing screen. "Have you deployed the HITS probes?"

"Thirty seconds ago, Admiral." Commander Taurus called out.

The HITS probes were probably the most useful weapons that the Admiral had in her possession. They were nearly microscopic, yet extremely powerful observation probes, which were strategically placed in important areas of the Republic headquarters. They could easily follow anyone one person or group that they wished in order to obtain necessary information. Admiral Lockhart obtained the probes and the designs for them by way of a slicer and technical genius called Tarik. They met on a small planet called Zavala on one of the crew's early missions. After Tristan had gained Tarik's trust, he showed her the plans and the prototypes for his brilliant innovation. Shortly after that, Tristan murdered Tarik and purloined his inventions to use for her own dark purpose.

"Good work, Taurus." Lockhart commented standing behind the young Commander. "But where are my Jedi?"

"I am in the process of locating them, Admiral."

"What do you mean "in the process! I want them now!" These students are vital to our plan, Commander! I want information on each and every one of them! I want an inside link to the Jedi praxeum! I want probes following everyone involved so that we can find the perfect person for this very sensitive job. You wouldn't dare deny my orders, would you Taurus?" she growled menacingly.

Taurus felt a hint of pressure on his vocal chords. "No-- of course not, Admiral." he sputtered. The pressure disappeared.

"I didn't think so."

Admiral Lockhart left the slightly shaken Commander Taurus to his search, and continued walking around to monitor the rest of her men. As she stood over one of the other Commanders, she looked over his head and secretly admired the workers for a moment.

The crew of the Artemis was fairly large, but they were in no shape to wage war on the entire New Republic. However, Tristan felt that they were skilled enough to take on a few inexperienced Jedi. Many of these men had been around since the very beginning. They had worked hard to get to the place they were, and for that, she wished to reward them.

General Cerberus was certainly one of the hardest working members of the crew. He made sure everything was done precisely on schedule and carried out the Admiral's orders before they could scarcely leave her lips. He had been that way ever since the first day he began working for her, and as a result of that diligence, Tristan never hesitated to leave Cerberus in control when she was busy. His only fault was that he had a bit of a temper and a habit of throwing his weight around when the Admiral was not present. Because of this, Captain Mycenae had taken it upon himself to keep him in check.

Another crew member who was proving to be advantageous was Commander Benjamyn Taurus. Even though he had ways of making her very angry, he was a good man. He was one of the crew's younger members but his knowledge was far beyond his years. In fact, it would not be an overstatement to call him a technical genius. Admiral Lockhart often called on him to repair the complicated weapon systems of the ship or to program things into their computers. Because of his youthfulness, she was usually reluctant to call on him save for his technical skills. But lately, he had proved to have some good ideas and except for the occasional moments when his age was obvious, he was proving to be a valuable asset to the crew.

There were many more officers on the ship, but Tristan chose not to grow close to any of them. If too many people knew her too well, she would lose her respect and authority. She kept her circle of companions limited to those three men and dwelled in the assurance that they would not ever betray her.

"Taurus? An update?" Lockhart asked warningly, walking back toward his post.

Stang, would she never let up? "Yes, Admiral." Commander Taurus answered calmly. "Probes have been mounted and are set to monitor-- Jaina Solo... her brother Jacen and the entire Solo residence... Tenel Ka... Alex Lowry--"

"Those last two names aren't familiar. Who are they?"

"Alex Lowry owns a coffee shop called Astraglo. Jaina Solo has visited there four times in the past two weeks. I thought it would be a good place to watch. Tenel Ka is Jaina's close companion."

"Very well. Continue."

Taurus waited for the rest of the names to come up. "The last two are following Kyp Durron, a Jedi Master at the Academy... and of course Luke Skywalker."

Tristan's blood ran cold as the familiar names ran through her mind. Jaina and Jacen Solo; children of Han Solo, the man who was partially responsible for the destruction of the first Death Star. And Luke Skywalker, destroyer of the Empire, and the reason for her misery. Sweet revenge was hers at last.

"Send their profiles to my quarters."

The next afternoon, Admiral Lockhart decided to hold a conference with a few key crew members to decide what miserable soul they would use for this mission. But they had disappointed her and she hadn't gotten any useful ideas from them so far. Frustrated, Admiral Lockhart rose from her chair in the conference room. They had been watching their probes for over twenty-four hours, and nothing significant had happened yet. Admiral Lockhart was not a patient woman. Captain Mycenae, General Cerberus, General Adelae, Commander Taurus, and Commander Houston were about to die from boredom. They hadn't moved for the past two hours. Lockhart mumbled to herself as she circled the table. Mycenae leaned back in his chair and rolled his eyes. "Admiral, we have been here for hours and accomplished nothing! What can we possible think of now that we haven't already discussed? Why don't we just monitor Skywalker and his family--"

"And then wait for him to decide to fly somewhere and then catch him in space? Is that what you're suggesting?" Lockhart made her way over to Mycenae and leaned down to look him straight in the eye. "Are you that stupid, Mycenae! Of course you're not. Your wouldn't be first officer if you were." She straightened up again and continued walking around the room.

"My simple-minded crewmates. Do none of you realize what Skywalker is capable of? Because of him, Lord Vader, betrayed and killed himself and his master. Entire planets have succumbed to the Republic because of his influence. He has murdered millions, and gained endless knowledge from traveling all over the galaxy. Skywalker has more power than you can imagine. It would be foolish for us to assume we can take him down."

"What are you suggesting, Admiral? That we avoid going directly to the source?" Cerberus asked.

"Exactly." Lockhart answered. "I am suggesting that we work through the people he is closest to. Perhaps his wife, who was a former agent of the Emperor. Or maybe one of his students. A young, naive Jedi who will turn him over to us unintentionally."

"What about one of the Solo children?" Taurus suggested. "Not only do they attend the Jedi Academy, but they are the children of Skywalker's sister. They may be of some use."

Lockhart grinned deviously. "That's the spirit, Commander."

_THURSDAY AFTERNOON..._

_122523-434_

_You know... I don't even know what to say. I wish I could just take a picture of my brain and look at it and try to figure out what's going on. I am confused. Sooooo confused..._

"One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two,-- got it?"

"Um yeah, sure."

Jaina laughed. Brock was a bit dazed. Jaina Solo had spent the past hour in his arms, her fingers intertwined with his. Jaina had remembered him saying during their night at Astraglo that he wasn't much of a dancer. So she figured a few lessons would be a good excuse to spend some extra time with him. Brock was enjoying every second of it.

Jaina smiled. "You've done great. I can't believe you've put up with me this long!"

"Are you kidding? This is cool. You're a great teacher."

The music ended and the couple released each other. Their eyes locked for a moment and Jaina thought for sure that her heart was going to jump out of her chest.

"Um-- whaddya say we take a break? I'll put on-- something fast."

"Yeah, sure. That's cool."

Jaina crossed the room to the sound system and began looking for different music. Brock smacked himself in the forehead. _"Yeah sure, that's cool? What are you, fourteen? C'mon Mitchell, quit acting like an idiot!"_

Suddenly, a very familiar tune resounded through the living room, and a smile spread across Brock's face. Jaina reentered the room and caught sight of his ear to ear grin. "What are you so happy about?"

"This song, Paxton is a genius."

Jaina humored him with a grin. "What are you talking about?"

Brock's mouth fell open. "Don't tell me you've never heard of Louis Paxton!" Jaina smiled and shrugged.

"You mean after all the dances they've taught you, you don't know how to swing!"

"Fraid not."

Brock grinned again. "You wanna learn?"

Jaina cocked her head. "I thought you didn't dance!"

"I had to say something to get you to teach me." He smirked.

Jaina's mouth fell open and her eyes narrowed.

"Aw, the Mad Face!" he teased. "I love the Mad Face. You are just so vaping irresistible when you look at me like that. Come here."

Jaina took his hand, desperately trying to crush the swirl of emotions rising into her torso.

"Okay, here's your basic step…"

A smile spread across Lockhart's face as she gazed into the viewing screen. "Are you seeing this, Mycenae? It's nearly too good to be true. We couldn't ask for a better setup!"

Mycenae's eyes narrowed as he stared into one of the viewing screens. "I don't understand, Admiral."

Lockhart rolled her eyes. "Think about it, Mycenae. It would be too obvious and too difficult for us to attack Jaina Solo herself. But since she has this less significant boyfriend, he's the perfect target! No one cares what happens to him. He could lead us right into the heart of the royal family and then the Jedi Academy-- and then to Skywalker." Tristan took her comlink and called for Taurus to join them in the observation room. Seconds later, he appeared.

"Yes, Admiral?"

"Taurus, I want probes following Captain Brock Mitchell every second and I want a complete readout of his history, records, etc. I also want to be able to see EVERYTHING that happens at this banquet on Saturday night. Get probes up in the Kahanek Banquet Hall before Saturday afternoon."

Taurus sighed to himself. That was almost impossible. "Yes Admiral." he answered, concealing his annoyance.

Tristan turned back to the screen. "I am anxious to see what is to become of this relationship." Oh, Captain Mitchell. You didn't know what you were getting into, did you? Just wait. Your compassion for the Princess will be your undoing.

_SATURDAY NIGHT..._

_122723-436_

_My father is impossible. He doesn't trust me and he's making my life miserable. Brock on the other hand is completely perfect and wonderful and-- he's making my life even more difficult. Don't get me wrong though! I'm so happy! Really, I am! But I'm losing my mind..._

Jaina stepped out of her bathroom, coughing furiously. Hairspray was not good for the lungs! After the cloud of mist had cleared, she reentered the bathroom and inspected her hair. Nearly perfect-- with a few rebellious strands of hair hanging in her face. "Must you be the non-conformists!" Jaina growled at her hair.

"Come here hon, I'll help you." Leia beckoned her daughter and smiled at her. "You must be nervous if you're screaming at your hair."

Jaina sighed. "Maybe I am a little. I don't know why. I've done this a thousand times." Leia only smiled. Jaina knew she knew, but she appreciated the fact that her mother knew when to be quiet.

"Alright, Mitchie, it's zero hour! Let's go!"

Lucy wound her long, dark, hair up with a pen and paced back and forth in Brock and Jeremy's living room. Zane watched her with a smile. "Stang, I think you're more nervous than he is, Lucky." Lucy glared at him.

"I am not! I'm excited for him. I mean when was the last time one of us got invited to a big executive party? This could so change his life forever!"

Zane smiled again. "I don't think so, honey. Mitchie's a good guy, but he's no prince."

"So!" Lucy argued defensively. "Han Solo was just a smuggler, and he married a princess. Now-- Captain Brock Mitchell is gonna sweep his daughter off her feet."

Jeremy and Zane shrugged as Lucy walked back down the hall to Brock's room and banged on the door.

"Mitchie, you're gonna be late! Come on! Let's see how you look."

"Okay, okay! I'm coming!"

Lucy stood outside the door with her arms crossed, waiting. A moment later, the door creaked open.

"So... whaddya think?"

Tristan was seated in the observation room with Mycenae and Cerberus. She had ordered them all to spend this evening with her, watching and listening. Tonight would be the night that she decided whether or not Brock was to be chosen for this mission. Taurus was busy making sure that they would have no trouble hearing every word that was spoken that night, as well as watch every movement. Tristan's only disappointment was that Skywalker would not be present at the banquet. But it was better that way. If he was there, he would have that harlot, Mara Jade, on his arm. That was the last thing Tristan wanted to watch. She pushed that thought from her mind and smiled as she thought of his destruction.

"Hurry up, Taurus." she called. "It would be a shame for you to miss this."

Jacen knocked lightly on his sister's door. "Can I come in?"

"I guess."

Jacen rolled his eyes as he entered. "You're not mad at me, are you?"

Jaina turned to face her brother. "No, I'm not mad at you." she answered. "Help me put this on." She handed him a necklace.

Jacen obliged. "Hey," he began. "I just wanted to let you know that-- I'm not gonna mess with you tonight." He paused. "I want you to have a good time and—I hope things turn out the way you want them."

Jaina turned to face her brother. When it came to serious matters, Jacen wasn't great at verbally expressing himself, but she could tell this was heartfelt. She smiled and hugged him. "Thank you, Jasa. I appreciate it. Now go away, so I can finish getting ready."

The white roses trembled slightly in Brock's hand. He was alone outside the door of the Solo residence. After being wished farewell and good luck by his three best friends, he had summoned his courage and pride, and made his way to the very spot he was standing. "This night could change everything." he thought. "Or it could change nothing." He wasn't quite sure what to expect from the next few hours, and after taking several steps in what he believed was the right direction-- he wished there was someone to push him the rest of the way.

the sound of Windsor chimes echoes throughout the house

Jacen was checking out his appearance in the living room mirror when the doorbell rang. He and Anakin had decided to attend the banquet in Jedi Knight attire. The girls, however, rarely passed up an opportunity for a new formal dress Jacen's Jedi robe lay on the couch and he was buttoning the top buttons on his dark green tunic.

In a few seconds, he realized that he was expected to answer the door. "Don't everybody run down here at once! I'll get it!"

Brock breathed small a sigh of relief when Jacen opened the door. "Hey, Mitchell! Come on in."

Brock and Jacen were dressed slightly similar, and just as nice. Lucy had been extremely pleased with her best friend's appearance. When he took the time to actually put gel in his hair change out of his scrubby trousers, he cleaned up nicely. Brock was clad in black pants that went down into shiny black boots. His maroon tunic was a different style from Jacen's and in the right light, it looked almost metallic. He hoped it was at least close to the color of Jaina's dress. To top off the outfit, a black formal cape was draped over his shoulders. It was one of the nicest garments he owned. "Jaina's still getting ready." Jacen commented. "I say, give her at least another fifteen minutes." Brock smiled. "It's alright, I expected to wait."

"You're welcome to come with me and A.J. to pick up Tenel and Tahiri."

"Nah, I'll stay here. Try to make nice with your dad."

Jacen grinned. "He's been repeatedly warned by Mom and Jaina to be good this evening. Good luck anyway. A.J.! Let's go!"

Seconds later, Anakin came flying down the stairs. He was dressed much like his brother, only in royal blue. His long dark hair was parted on the side and hung in his eyes a little.

"Take it easy, Mitchell."

Brock made himself comfortable on the couch. His head was swimming with excitement-- and nervousness. He was snapped out of his trance by Han's voice coming from upstairs. "Yeah hon, I'll wait for ya in the living room." Brock swallowed hard. He hadn't done anything wrong-- there was no reason to be nervous.

"Hey Brock, didn't know you were here." Brock stood up quickly and extended his hand to the legendary war hero. "Yes sir, good evening, General."

"Just Captain Solo is fine." Han replied shaking Brock's hand. Then Brock resumed his place on the couch as Han sat down in his chair.

"So, you ever been to one of these things?"

"No sir." Brock responded. "I'm not too fond of huge social gatherings. But, I have a lot of admiration and respect for your daughter and-- I wouldn't miss another opportunity to spend time with her. She's brilliant."

Wow! Where had that come from!

Han was apparently taken by surprise as well. "Well, I'm glad you think so highly of her. She is pretty amazing. Gonna be a powerful Jedi one day. Actually, she already is."

"Yeah," Brock shook his head. "I must admit, that was quite a surprise."

"Whaddya mean a surprise?"

Brock chuckled nervously. "She kinda forgot to tell me who she really was. About you and the rest of the family. I just thought she was a new pilot or someone I hadn't met."

Han leaned back in his chair and chuckled. "Oh that. Yeah, she has a selective memory. She doesn't think it's important. But most people do care. For some reason they freak out when they find out I'm her dad." He grinned. "It's not like I'm gonna kill any of her friends or anything!" Han laughed, and Brock laughed politely, swallowing the lump in his throat. _"Aw, Jaina, please hurry!"_

After what seemed like hours had passed, Han and Brock's uneasy conversation was put to an end by the sound of the front door opening. A second later, Jacen appeared with Tenel by his side. Anakin and Tahiri followed close behind them.

"Hey Brock. Jaina come down yet?"

"Uh, no."

Tenel touched her boyfriend's arm. "I'll go get her. Come with me, Tahiri?" Tahiri nodded and followed Tenel up the stairs.

Jaina jumped when she heard the knock at her door. "Come in."

Tenel and Tahiri leaned slowly into Jaina's room. "You ever comin' down honey?" Tahiri asked with a smile.

Jaina grinned and jumped up from her chair. "Hi guys! When did you get here?"

"A second ago." Tahiri answered. "Only to be greeted by a really hot, LONELY fighter pilot. Why aren't you down there?"

"Well, I--"

"No excuses!" Tenel piped up. "Get your butt down there! Now!"

"Tenel, wait--"

"I'll pull you--"

Jaina grabbed her best friend's right hand; a miracle in itself since the accident.

"Tenel," she whispered softly. "Tell me I have nothing to worry about. Tell me everything's going to be fine."

Tenel smiled warmly and hugged her best friend. "You look gorgeous, and everything is going to go perfectly. But not if you don't get your butt down those stairs."

Jaina grinned. There was a time that she thought Tenel wasn't capable of showing her emotions. Her relationship with Jacen had opened her up a lot and helped her to express herself better. The entire New Order had become much more relaxed about sharing their feelings with each other.

"Come on, Princess. It's time."

"She's coming!" Tenel announced, floating down the stairs. Jacen's heart raced at the mere sight of her. She looked spectacular. Her sparkling green dress set off her deep emerald eyes, and her auburn hair wasn't braided as usual. Instead, it cascaded down her back like a waterfall.

Tahiri followed closely behind Tenel. Her sky blue dress matched Anakin's eyes. She caught his gaze from the stairs and grinned at him. He grinned back. Though they were only friends, Tahiri had to admit, he looked adorable. The tunic he wore set off his blue eyes and with his hair falling in his face just a little, he was irresistible.

Brock stood nervously, roses still in hand, and turned around just in time to be confronted with a figure from a perfect daydream.

Jaina descended the staircase in her metallic, cranberry colored dress. Brock fought to keep his mouth from falling open. Her brown hair was pulled up with a few ringlets hanging in her face, and a small, sparkling tiara graced her head. Her brandy brown eyes sparkled when they met Brock's green ones. His face broadened into a grin.

Jacen concealed a smile at Brock's reaction. He hadn't seen his sister this happy in a while. He sensed her emotions as Brock handed her the roses and gently hugged her. But he tried his best to keep to himself, and focus on something more important. Like the way Tenel looked in her dress.

"Thank you, Brock. They're beautiful. I'll have to find a vase. Come with me?" she said starting toward the kitchen. " Sure." Brock grinned and followed her, completely enchanted.

Han kept a watchful eye on his daughter.

"So, are you excited?" Jaina asked filling the vase with water. She actually had to concentrate on keeping her focus off of Brock to avoid spilling water everywhere.

"Of course. I have every reason to be."

Jaina placed the roses in the vase and eyed Brock. She decided to hide her nervousness by being a tease. "Wow. You clean up nice, Mitchell. And look! We even sorta match!" Jaina grinned. Gods, she was gorgeous! "And by the way," she continued. "I'm really sorry I made you wait."

"No, no, no," he answered quickly. "Don't be. It was worth every second. You look-- incredible."

Jaina felt her face getting warm. "Thank you."

Brock smiled. "You're welcome." He offered her his arm. "Shall we?"

Jaina smiled back and slipped her arm through his. "Yeah, let's go."

The shiny, silver transport vehicle pulled up at the door of the Kahanek Banquet Hall on Coruscant, and all four couples exited the vehicle. Brock smiled to himself as they approached the massive threshold. This night is going to be amazing! He felt Jaina squeeze his arm. He turned his head and she grinned at him. "Ready to go?"

"Yes, yes, of course, your Majesty." Brock said in his best snobby accent. "Let us go mingle with the other members of the elite society."

Jaina giggled. "Just open the door."

The architecture of the Kahanek Banquet Hall was spectacular. Everything on the interior was either ivory or golden, and ornate crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Ice sculptures decorated the banquet tables, which were lined with exotic hors d'oeuvres from all over the galaxy. And there were hundreds of upper class people milling around. They spoke in foreign tongues of which Brock could not even begin to distinguish. He would have felt very small and insignificant, were it not for the beautiful princess on his arm.

"Kind of overwhelming, huh?"

"Oh yeah." Brock replied slowly.

Jaina smiled. "It still gets me every time, and I've been to tons of these."

"But you fit right in. I mean look at you! And look at me."

Jaina did so. She eyed her date up and down and then met his eyes in a smile. "Are you questioning my judgment?" she inquired with mock annoyance.

Brock grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, sort of."

Jaina straightened his tie with a smirk. "Never do that again." she answered. "Come on, I'll introduce you to some people."

Brock and Jaina found Jacen and Tenel and the four mingled until it was time to eat. They located their table at the front of the banquet hall where the four couples were seated around the esteemed Dzani Ambassador and his assistants. After a few short speeches, dinner was served, and conversation commenced at the table.

Brock ate more cautiously than usual, being careful not to spill anything and make a fool of himself. But he had a hard time simply concentrating on eating, because he couldn't keep his eyes off of Jaina. Everything about her was just so-- cute! He was greatly looking forward to the rest of the evening, while still trying to enjoy every minute that passed.

"You still remember the moves I taught you?" he whispered to her when dinner was finished.

"Sure." she answered. "But I'd be kind of surprised if we got to swing here."

"Why's that?"

"Well, they just usually don't play anything like that."

Brock smiled. "Maybe no one's ever requested it." Jaina smiled back.

"How about you?" she asked a moment later. "Still remember?"

"Of course!" How could I ever forget?

When the tables were cleared, the lights dimmed, the stage lit up, and the Dzani Ambassador's secretary took the stage and began a long, monotone, speech. Brock hid a yawn about halfway through. He resolved his boredom by counting the petals on the flowery tablecloth. He had reached 463 when the secretary stepped down, after announcing his successor; the Ambassador himself. The older, and slightly rounder man ambled up onto the stage, thus beginning the longest forty-five minutes of Brock's life. Jaina turned her head from the stage and caught her date concealing a sigh. She smiled at him and shrugged slightly. He returned her smile, but his face suddenly turned more serious and he glared into her eyes, and sly smile working its way onto his face. Jaina glared back. She wasn't about to lose a staring contest. Especially not to someone with eyes as gorgeous as Brock's.

Jacen noticed his sister staring into Brock's eyes, and nudged her with the Force. Jaina assumed he was teasing until she heard his voice. You two aren't the only ones staring at each other! Jaina suddenly felt her father's eyes on them, and unintentionally, she blinked, losing the contest and coming face to face with her father's glare. Han flashed her a warning look, and a forced smile, and then turned his eyes back to the stage.

Jaina slowly reverted her gaze to Brock, who had seen her father's reaction to their little game. He gave her a genuine smile, and mouthed the words, "rematch later". Satisfied, Jaina turned her head back toward the Ambassador.

Fifteen minutes later, Jaina heard a soft, repetitive noise. A rhythm, barely audible without the use of the Force. She quickly identified the source; Brock was tapping his fingers on his thighs. She didn't sense any intentional mischief, so he was simply bored again, and this cadence was amusing him for the time being. She let it go on a few more minutes, and then quietly, keeping one eye on her father, she slid her hand out of her own lap and onto Brock's leg, covering his fingers. Brock jumped slightly at her touch. The two were sitting close enough together that Han hadn't caught the movement, for he was seated across the table from them and was actually paying attention to the speaker. Brock turned slowly to her, a grin threatening the corners of his mouth. Jaina fought to hide her own. A few seconds later, Brock began tapping his fingers again, under her hand. This time she squeezed his hand to make him stop. But her stomach fluttered when he pulled his hand from beneath hers, laced their fingers together and gently brushed his thumb against hers. She glanced at him for a long moment and he shot her a triumphant look that clearly said 'This could keep me occupied for awhile.' Then he winked at her. Jaina rolled her eyes to hide the blush.

It took every ounce of willpower within Han to remain silent. As the congregation applauded the Ambassador at the close of his speech, Han glared at Jaina. He finally caught her eye and she smiled innocently at him.

"Alright, enough talk for one evening." the Ambassador said in his distinguished accent. "We will now proceed to the ballroom for dancing and refreshments. Thank you all, and good night."

Everyone rose from their tables and began to follow the crowd. Jaina surrounded she and Brock with her friends, and never laid another eye on her father.

_Steve Tyrell's version of "The Way You Look Tonight" has been deleted from this story. Once again, please use your imagination to set the mood. Sorry. _

Her hair was mussed, her feet were sore, and her dress was beginning to cling to her, but Jaina couldn't feel a thing-- except Brock's muscular forearm around her waist and the electricity coursing between their intertwined fingers. He was an amazing dancer. Not only had he swept her across the floor through dozens of traditional songs, he had even convinced the emcee to play two swing songs for them to show off to. After numerous rounds of applause from their captive audience, Jaina was floating, despite her aching feet.

And now, she was close enough to feel his heartbeat, close enough to see a flicker of delight in his emerald eyes when she smiled at him. He was perfect. The evening had been perfect, everything was—too perfect.

Jaina pulled back and looked up into Brock's eyes. As doubts filled her mind, her face turned to a paradoxical combination of anxious bliss.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked her softly.

Jaina sighed, slightly embarrassed. "I guess—I'm just wondering."

"About what?"

"If—maybe this is too good to be true." she mumbled.

Brock looked slightly concerned. "What do you mean?"

Jaina licked her lips nervously. "I guess—I just didn't have any expectations for this night. But I think that if I had—you would have surpassed them all." Brock smiled down at her. She smiled back and carefully slid one hand onto his chest.

"I like you, Brock."

_Sweet! _

"Well, if we're being honest," He grinned. "I must admit—I've had a mad crush on you for weeks now."

Jaina smiled and Brock thought his heart would explode. As they danced, he slowly released her fingers and slipped both of his hands around to the small of her back, sensing traces of her smooth skin between the ties at the back of her dress. She slid her arms carefully around his neck.

"But,"

_Stangit_! Brock's heart dropped into his shoes.

"Call me a cynic," Jaina continued quietly. "But something about this-- is so good that—it scares me."

As his heart traveled slowly back up to his chest, Brock brushed Jaina's cheek with his fingers. "It's okay to be scared—as long as you don't run."

Talk about knowing the right thing to say. Jaina's trust in Brock soared instantly. She looked up at him with determined eyes.

"I won't if you won't." She whispered.

Brock grinned. "Like I said before, Sparks—you couldn't get rid of me now if you wanted to."

Jaina's whole body tingled as his breath tickled her ear. Her feet were barely touching the ground as she slid her arms around his neck again.

Jaina's heart raced. This wasn't going to be a simple friendship. Something was happening between her and Brock; something so strong, it was almost tangible. As the song slowed, the desire within Brock swelled. Though he had once been content to gaze into her brandy brown eyes, it was no longer enough. Her lips were beckoning him, and if the room hadn't been full of people, including Jaina's father, he would not have hesitated. But while he was deciding whether or not to resist temptation, the song ended and light flooded the dance floor. The couple remained in their embrace, desperately trying to freeze in that moment, but of course, it was too late. Angry at his indecision, Brock did his best to swallow his disappointment. He sighed and caressed Jaina's cheek with a sad smile.

"Thank you for the dance."

Admiral Lockhart's heart pulsed as she watched the couple in disgust. _Isn't that sweet. He likes her. No... he WANTS her._ She stood up abruptly. "I've seen enough." She turned to face her men and pointed behind her at the screen that bore the image of Brock and Jaina.

"He is the one I want. And he is the one I will have for this mission. We will begin to plan tomorrow morning." With that, she left the room. It made her sick to watch the couple any longer. Her head filled with evil schemes as she made her way to her quarters. "Unfortunately for you, Captain Mitchell," she thought "You're going to have to experience the pain of being forgotten by someone you love. But, not to worry. You too shall have your revenge."

"PARTING IS SUCH SWEET SORROW..."

The transport dropped the entire party off at the Solo's home. Jacen and Anakin took Tenel and Tahiri back to their apartments and Han and Leia went inside. Brock and Jaina walked hand in hand to the end of the hallway where the elevator lift was. They trudged every step, hoping to prolong the end of the evening. Brock finally turned around and took both of Jaina's hands in his own.

"I should be walking you home, Sparks."

Jaina rolled her eyes. "But you can't. Because my father will spy on us until I get into the house."

"Nah, he wouldn't do that." Brock grinned.

"You don't know my father!"

"I imagine I will eventually." Brock answered. He released her hands and slowly slipped his arms around her waist. A chill went up Jaina's spine and she could feel her heartbeat in her stomach. Was this a second chance? Brock pulled her in closer and she returned the embrace, slipping her arms around his neck.

"It'll be nice to eventually know your father, and your mom and both of your brothers," he mumbled, frightfully close to her ear. "But for now, my attention is focused elsewhere."

Nearly melting, Jaina squeezed her eyes shut. Everything felt so right. Jaina tried her hardest in that moment to dismiss the feeling as the romantic atmosphere of the evening, but it was much more than that.

Brock had been waiting ever since the end of that song for a second opportunity to show Jaina how he felt, and now, her hands were sliding down his shoulders and her face was only inches away.

But the couple was so entranced by their thoughts and emotions that they barely heard the door slam down the hall. Seconds later, Jaina realized what was happening and quickly released Brock. "Oh no. No, no, no! He is not doing this to me."

"Doing what?" Brock asked touching her hand again.

Sure enough, Han appeared down the hall. Brock quickly released her hand, and Jaina wanted to cry.

"You guys get lost?" Han asked in an overly cheerful voice. Jaina was angry beyond words, but Brock read her face and spoke for her.

"Um, no, actually-- I was just leaving, Captain Solo. I didn't think it was right for her to walk me all the way up, you know?"

"Oh yeah, I understand, I--"

"Daddy, please—just go. I'll be right there, I swear." Jaina bit out icily.

Han looked a little surprised. "Excuse me, Princess. I'm going to drop this off at Luke's. I'll be right back."

Jaina rolled her eyes. "I'm sure you will, Dad." she muttered.

Han eyed the pair for a moment, then continued around the curve of the hallway, as if to convince her.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Jaina covered her face with her hands. "I don't believe him! He is SUCH a liar! We were out less than ten minutes! Brock, I am SO sorry, I had--"

"Shhhh." Brock whispered placing his finger over her lips. "Don't worry about it. It's okay." He smiled sadly. Their faces neared and their foreheads touched, but their lips did not.

Brock chuckled, in disbelief that they had been interrupted again. "Stang, I wanna kiss you." he finally whispered, amazed at his own honesty. "But if I start, I'm not gonna stop-- and your dads' gonna be back any minute."

Jaina couldn't even hide her anger with a smile. "I'm so sorry Brock, I--"

"Shhh." he interrupted again, concealing his deep disappointment. "Don't you dare be sorry." He flashed her a sad smile. "We've got time-- just not tonight, unfortunately. But--" he squeezed her hand. "I'll talk to you first thing tomorrow, okay?"

Jaina nodded. "Alright."

Brock cupped her face with his right hand and brushed her lips with his thumb. "Save those for me?"

A shiver raced through Jaina's body as she smiled and nodded. "Goodnight, Captain."

"Goodnight, Sparks."

Wishing he could do so much more, Brock raised Jaina's hand to his face and caressed it softly with his lips.

"I will never forget the way you looked tonight."

Their fingers separated at the last possible moment, and Brock disappeared into the lift.

END PART FOUR


	5. Perfect Strangers: Ups & Downs

PERFECT STRANGERS: PART V

_14557354-5698_

_Dear Journal,_

_Giggle I'm sorry I can't help it! Brock called and woke me up this morning. It was so sweet! He felt bad for waking me, but he said he wanted my voice to be the first one he heard today because he'd been dreaming about me all night. Sigh I really like that boy..._

MONDAY

The next few days were full of delightful fantasies, confusion, and denial. Brock mused over his situation for days, which was very unlike him. He'd never had this much interest in anyone after just one date. But it wasn't simply interest. In fact, he wasn't sure what it was.

It was 21:30, and he was home alone, lying on his back on the couch in an undershirt and comfortable gray pants. He had tried to occupy himself, but he simply couldn't concentrate on anything. Every situation that came about, turned his mind back to Saturday night. And more importantly, back to Jaina. His head was swimming with emotions and thoughts that he could hardly control. He didn't know what to do. He needed to talk. He needed to spill his guts to someone who would listen and who wouldn't laugh at him. He needed-- Lucy.

Fifteen minutes after Brock hung up with Lucy, she was sitting in Jeremy's chair playing psychiatrist for her melancholy companion.

"Okay Mitchie. What's goin' on with you? You have not been the same since you came home Saturday night."

Brock rolled over on his side and groaned. "I really don't know, Lucky. I just can't stop thinking about her. She's so different from anyone I've ever met. And it's not just her body or her eyes or her smile—there's just something so genuine about her." Lucy smiled, but Brock's eyebrows were deeply furrowed. "But things are so complicated. Her dad doesn't like me, plus she's a Jedi; A really powerful one. Jedi Knights were never meant to be with roughneck starpilots..."

"Mitchie, don't say that."

"But it's true, Luce. I know, wish it wasn't. But you know it's gotta be hard for her too. The expectations everyone has for her are so high-- they're halfway to impossible. The last thing I want to do is cause trouble for her."

"Brock, you don't understand. She's a grown woman. If you were causing her trouble, she wouldn't waste time with you."

"But what do I have to offer, Lucy? She could have any guy in the galaxy."

"But Saturday night, and every other night last week, she was with you—because she wanted to be. Because she likes you, and she likes who she becomes when she's around you! Face it honey, she is falling hard—and so are you."

Brock looked up suddenly. "What? Come on, Luce, gimme a break. I've known her all of a month. You however, have know me for half a decade and--"

"And I've seen you come home drooling over a beautiful face or a nice body—" she interrupted. "But this is not that. This is more, this is deep—and you're scared."

"I am not scared." Brock shot back.

"You're scared." Lucy grinned. "Cause you like her."

Brock did not answer. He turned over onto his back again and folded his hands behind his head, thinking. Lucy hid a smile and rose from the couch to grab a drink from the kitchen.

Meanwhile, Brock turned Lucy's accusations over in his mind. She couldn't _possibly_ be right. For the past month he'd been constantly telling Jeremy and Zane that his reasons for continually going out with Jaina were simply because of her looks and her status. But as he thought, he realized that his excuses had been created only to convince himself. _"Am I really that simple?"_ he wondered. Surely not. A hint of bachelor pride invaded his head. Sure Jaina was different from every other girl he'd dated. Sure she was smarter, more charismatic, and more beautiful than anyone he'd ever met in his life—but if necessary, he could certainly go on and do fine without her.

Maybe.

Maybe!

Brock was a little alarmed by how quickly doubt latched itself to his idea. One side of him screamed, _"Of course you could manage without her!"_ But the other simply inquired, _"Why in the worlds would you want to?"_

Brock sat up quietly on the couch as Lucy reentered the room. She sat down beside him and smiled innocently.

"So..."

Brock slowly turned his head to look at her, then turned back to stare at the coffee table in front of them. "I like seeing her." He began quietly, trying to be truthful without sounding sappy. "I like how she looks when she smiles at me and I like making her laugh—and making her blush." He sighed deeply and rubbed his forehead for a moment. Lucy grinned at his anxious embarrassment.

"She's—strong," he continued. "And sharp-- and completely gorgeous. And—I really, really like her."

Lucy squealed. "Yay! Mitchie, you're adorable. I'm so excited."

"Hey, I'm gonna give this a shot, but don't expect too much. Remember who you're talking to here."

Lucy rolled her eyes. "There you go again. Don't sell yourself short, Cap'n. You are engaging. People follow you. You're very charming and you command authority without being obnoxious. Jaina's not just swooning over your face, honey. She's attracted to your confidence. Your charisma. Just keep being yourself-- cause it seems to be working."

Lucy and Brock talked a while longer, until Lucy started yawning.

"I should go." She said sleepily. "I've got some stuff to take care of before I hit the sack." She stood from the couch and stretched. Then Brock followed her outside.

"Thanks for coming over and listening to me." He smiled, shutting the door and embracing Lucy. "Thank you for making me tell you the truth."

Lucy smiled. "You're very welcome." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "But when are you gonna tell your friends about your girl?"

Brock looked down and bit his lip in thought for a moment, and then looked back at Lucy. "I really don't know." He finally answered.

Lucy's eyebrows rose, and her hands flew to her hips. "What do you mean you don't know!"

Brock sighed and crossed his arms. "You know how they are, Luce. I don't need any outside influence here. I don't want this to go beyond you and me until I'm sure of everything. If something got messed up now, I'd never forgive myself."

Brock paused and Lucy's face softened. She had never seen him so concerned about anything. Never had he been so adamant about keeping a secret. Never had he been so-- head over heels. Lucy smiled to herself.

Brock sighed. "Promise me, Luce," he whispered. "Promise me this stays a secret until I know for sure I've got a real chance. Please?"

Lucy looked up at him and grinned. "You are too cute, Mitchell." He smiled. "I promise."

TUESDAY MORNING

_14557354-5698_

_(Jaina screams at the top of her lungs) Not really, but that's how I feel! Forget about reading my own mind. I want to read his! No, I need to read his. Badly. Why can't I just be honest with myself? Why can't I accept this feeling? Because... I'm scared to? No, that's stupid. I'm not scared of anything. I can do this. I will-- maybe..._

Jaina made her way to the garage, not to work, but to return some tools to her ship. The noise level grew louder as she entered the place where her ship was docked, and she could have sworn she heard a whirring noise coming from next door. She peered through the window on the thick metal door and was pleasantly surprised to see Brock toiling away at his ship. Memories flashed in her mind of their first meeting in the garage, and she smiled. _"Who would've thought it could turn out like this?"_

Jaina entered quietly enough that Brock didn't hear her. She stood in silence watching him work. Oblivious to her presence, he paused and wiped sweat from his forehead with the edge of his shirt. Seconds later, he was still dissatisfied with the temperature of the room. Jaina whistled loudly as his shirt hit the floor and Brock turned around sharply at the sound. He smiled at her, blushing slightly. "Hiya, Sparks. What are you doin' here?"

Jaina made her way toward him. "Just dropping some stuff off on the Gemini. Thought I'd say hi."

Brock nodded. "Cool. Wanna help?"

"Nah. I'll just watch."

Brock smiled and returned to his work, wondering for a moment what exactly she was watching. They sat in silence except for the whir of Brock's screwdriver. After he replaced the plate, he got up and went to the side of the ship to check his work.

As Jaina admired his sculpted frame, she noticed a long, thin, scar running down his left shoulder. She waited for him to come back closer to her, then rose from her seat and approached him from behind. She placed her hand on his shoulder and traced her finger over the scar. He jumped slightly at her touch.

"Your hands are so cold!" he exclaimed.

She jerked back. "Sorry!"

"No, no," he answered back. "Put 'em back. I'm dying in here."

At the risk of seeming too eager, Jaina considered her options, and decided to take advantage of the situation. She pulled Brock's head backward into her lower torso. She then covered his forehead with one hand and put the other hand on his shoulder. "Better?" she asked.

Chills ran down Brock's spine. "Aw, yeah." he drawled. "That feels really good. It's about twenty degrees too hot in here."

"Sorry about that—I'll go."

Brock grinned and moved her hand to the side of his face. "You—stay right here."

Jaina had to use the Force to keep her hands from trembling. She quickly changed the subject.

"So, uh-- what's this from?" she asked touching the scar again.

Brock was silent for a moment. "You never saw it before?"

"How many times have you taken your shirt off in front of me?"

He grinned to himself. "Uh... twice, I think. Would you like me to do it more often?"

When she didn't answer immediately, he turned and caught her blushing. "You're changing the subject." she replied demurely. A smile crossed his face, but quickly faded as he answered her question.

"Glass bottle," he muttered. "Dad came home angry. Guess it was something I said. Two hours and fifty-three stitches later..." he trailed off.

Jaina sighed softly. "I'm sorry."

Brock snorted. "Don't be. That was a long time ago. Besides, it's not your fault."

Jaina walked around him and dropped to her knees, looking him in the eye. "You know it wasn't your fault either, right?"

Brock glanced at the ground. "Yeah. I know."

Jaina decided to change the subject again. "So aren't you supposed to go up to Nine Volt with Jacen later?"

"Yeah," he answered. "I'm headed there after I finish this."

"Well, then I'll let you finish so you can go." Jaina said standing from the crate she was sitting on. She started toward the door, but halted at the sound of his voice.

"Hey, will you be home later this afternoon?"

"Yeah,"

Brock smiled. "Cool."

"Yeah, see you later." Jaina continued toward the exit and didn't turn around again until she reached the door. She glanced back at the charming mechanic behind her, and caught his gaze raking over her form. When their eyes met, Brock winked at her and shot her a sly grin that made her blush. She smiled shyly back and quickly exited.

TUESDAY AFTERNOON

"Your break, Solo."

Brock stuck his cue in the charger and blew of the end as if it were a smoking blaster. He watched as Jacen sank the seven ball in the top right corner.

Jacen and Brock had made the trip to Nine Volt a weekly activity. Brock had been hanging out at the Solo house more often and Jacen had a feeling he wasn't going anywhere quickly. So he, in brotherly fashion made it his business to decide whether or not Brock was genuine. A weekly game of pool was the perfect opportunity to talk casually. However, it didn't take long for Jacen to realize that Brock was a near perfect match for his sister. Not to mention a worthy billards opponent.

Jacen stepped away from the table after his second shot and Brock leaned over the table.

"Question." Brock muttered as he lined up his shot.

"Shoot."

Thud. Brock moved to the other side of the table. "Is there _anything_ I can do to get in good with your dad?" he asked.

Jacen laughed. "Besides stop dating my sister? No, probably not."

Clunk. Brock snorted as he returned to the other side of the table for his third shot.

"But really," Jacen continued. "You're not doing anything wrong. Unfortunately, Jaina is dad's favorite-- so anyone who wants to be with her has to go through a little bit of hell."

Brock sighed. "She's worth the hell—I'm just wondering if it's going to be like this—indefinitely. Stang it! Your shot."

Brock stepped back from the table while Jacen lined up his shot. He sometimes wondered about playing with Jacen. He did have the Force on his side, but he swore he never used it to his advantage.

"Hey, I feel your pain." Jacen continued. "Tenel's grandmother would see me and my father spaced tomorrow, then hold a parade following the event, but that hasn't stopped me. At least our mom likes you."

"Yeah, your mom's been pretty cool."

"She says you remind her of Dad. The 'good kind of scoundrel', whatever that is. Anyways, you should be happy. She has a lot of influence on him."

Brock snorted. "I'm not convinced."

Jacen rolled his eyes. "Listen Mitchell, here's a little Han Solo 101—Han Solo doesn't like _anyone_ who goes out with his daughter. Even if he does like you—he'd never tell you. That's not his style. His style is to watch your every move and wait for that one moment when you screw up, so he can nail you. But fortunately, you've got his one weakness on your side. Jaina—will kill me for saying this—but she's crazy about you. That gives you a strong upper hand."

Jacen walked around the table to shoot again. "You can beat his game, Mitchell. In fact, you have to-- because if you give up, Jaina will be really disappointed. And if you break my sister's heart," Jacen sank another ball, and glanced up at Brock, only half-joking,

"I'll kick your ass. And I don't mean at pool."

SAME TIME, DIFFERENT PLACE...

Jaina sighed nervously as she rang the Skywalker doorbell. Mara looked a little surprised to see her niece at the door. "Jaina! What a nice surprise! Come on in!"

"Thanks," Jaina replied. "Uncle Luke's not home, is he?"

"Oh no, he's out and he took Ben with him. And you're in luck! Emily's up in her room and the babies are asleep." Mara collapsed on the couch in relieved happiness.

"Wonderful," Jaina said sitting down beside her. "Because I need to talk to you."

Mara grinned at her and smiled. "About your flyboy?"

Jaina rolled her eyes. She hated being so obvious. "Nothing gets past you. I really don't know what to do, Aunt Mara. He is driving me absolutely crazy-- in the best way possible."

Mara chuckled. "Isn't that always the way it goes?"

"I mean-- what do I do?" Jaina sighed again. "I like Brock a whole lot more than I ever planned on liking him. But I don't want to tell him and scare him off or something."

"I can understand that." Mara said sympathetically. "Putting your feelings out on the line can be terrifying-- but, speaking from experience, you're going to make yourself miserable if you don't do something."

Jaina sighed. "How did I know you would say that?" She leaned back against the couch. "Okay, maybe you can answer this. How did you know for sure that-- that you were supposed to be with Uncle Luke? I mean I know before that it was all screwed up, so how did you ever figure out-- what was right? And when you did, didn't you doubt it? What if your emotions were all wrong? How did you ever just--"

"Jaina! Slow down, sweetie! You're making it worse! You're analyzing way too much and thinking way too hard. One thing you've got to remember is that love isn't planned, you're just supposed to let it happen."

Jaina froze for a moment at the mention of the word "love".

"What if it's not love at all?" she answered. "What if you don't know?"

Mara rolled her eyes where Jaina couldn't see, forgetting the connotation of the word. "Sorry, bad choice of words. Um-- replace 'love' with 'these kinds of situations'. That better?"

Jaina cracked a smile. "Sort of."

"Look Jain, if you aren't sure, why don't you just continue to date him casually to make sure you want to pursue this? There's no harm in that."

"Aunt Mara, I already know that I like him. A lot. But I don't want to tell him that and then have him tell me he was 'just messing around'. I'm tired of crappy, meaningless relationships, and I don't want this to turn into that."

Mara smiled at her niece. "Sounds like you know exactly what you want." Jaina sank into the couch again. "And I think," Mara continued. "That if he's not willing to give you that, then he's not worth any more of your time."

Mara could sense that Jaina was still quite worried and added, "But judging from what I've seen so far, I don't think Brock is going to walk away from this if it turns into something deeper."

Jaina looked up. "You don't?"

"Of course not!" she smiled, and playfully slapped Jaina's leg. "I'll bet he's having as much fun as you are!"

Jaina chuckled and ran a hand through her hair as Mara stood from the couch. "In all seriousness, Jain, don't stress out about it too much. As cliche as this sounds, if he's the One, you'll know."

Jaina turned over on her back and stretched out on the couch, cover her face with her hands. "Argh," she growled. "Why does this have to be so complicated?"

Mara smiled in the kitchen. "Honey, if lov-- if it were any easier, it wouldn't be nearly as much fun."

Jaina's stomach fluttered again.

Half an hour later, Jaina left the Skywalker's and returned to her own home. As she punched in the code on the panel beside her door, she sighed. Love? Did she want to be in love? Well, it wasn't like she had complete control over it now. Her mind and heart might as well be two separate beings. But-- if she did have complete control, would she have chosen to love him anyway? She shook her head, trying to clear it. _"Too much thinking going on."_ she reminded herself. "Love isn't planned, you're just supposed to let it happen." She smiled a bit nervously. 'It' wasn't such a scary word. But she still needed a bit more time for confirmation. She took a deep breath as the door slid open.

To her dismay, Jacen, Anakin and Brock were lounging in the den. Could she face him right now? With all those feelings out in the open? It might be best to wait. Jaina stopped short at the doorframe, but it was too late. She had been spotted.

"Hey Jaya." Jacen called out. "Where have you been?"

"Oh, just out." she answered. "I thought you guys were--"

"We were." Jacen interrupted. "But we finished early." Jacen rose from the couch as Jaina entered the den. "Ani, c'mere. I gotta show you something." he beckoned his brother.

Anakin rolled his eyes. "Way to be subtle, bro." Reluctantly, he stood from the couch and followed Jacen out of the den.

Brock grinned and shook his head. "Sometimes I wonder if you two are really related."

"Me too! All the time!"

Brock laughed and turned his eyes to the floor. He was suddenly at a loss for words. Talk about bad timing.

Jaina however, decided that this was an opportune time for a define-the-relationship talk. They certainly got interrupted enough, so there was no telling when her next opportunity would be.

"So, uh, Brock--" she began bravely, strolling across the living room. She stopped at the arm of the couch. "I have a question for you. About our evening together..."

Brock smiled to himself, but didn't look up. So she'd been thinking about it too. "Yeah, I was kind of wanting to talk about that myself." He paused. "I've been thinking about it lately and--" his voice trailed off as he turned his head to look at her.

She was still wearing her black flight boots with olive green flight pants that fit her form much too perfectly. Her black, sleeveless tank was layered over a white one, showing off her toned arms and shoulders. Her hair was a mess, tied up in a wild bun with the many unruly pieces tucked behind her ears—and she was perfect. Brock chuckled as his train of thought promptly plowed over a cliff.

Jaina eyed him. "What?"

Brock shook his head.

"What?" she persisted.

Brock met her eyes and smiled sheepishly. "You're just beautiful, Sparks, that's all. You distracted me."

Brock averted his gaze, furiously racking his brain for how to continue the conversation. Jaina absentmindedly bit her lip and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, blushing slightly. Why did she even bother keeping her guard up? He always got under it.

"So, anyway," he continued. "You already know what a great time I had at that banquet. The most fun I've had since I moved here. Then again, I always enjoy myself when I'm with you. Which makes me think that I need to be with you—more often." he paused. " I've been thinking about us a lot, Sparks. I'm just not--"

"Us?" Jaina interrupted, fighting to keep her sly smile from becoming a giddy one. She walked casually along the edge of the couch and eased down next to Brock. "You've been thinking about Us."

Brock mirrored her expression. "Yes, Us-- as in You and Me." He slid his arm across the back of the couch and pushed a strand of hair behind her left ear. "What, you like the sound of that?"

Jaina literally had to use the Force to draw the blush from her face. Even then, she wasn't sure it worked. How did he do this to her?

"Maybe."

"Maybe?" Brock grinned. "Do you need some convincing? I can be very persuasive."

She smiled. "It wouldn't hurt."

Brock ran his finger across her jawline. "How about You slide over here so you can hear Me a little better?"

Jaina's heart skipped as Brock brushed over her bottom lip with his thumb.

Then Brock physically jumped as his mobil-comm buzzed loudly on his belt.

Brock held her gaze in disbelief. "I hate my life." He muttered.

Jaina shook her head. "Somebody's watching us, I swear."

Brock absentmindedly ran his fingers down her arm, grabbed her fingers with his right hand and the buzzing comm with his left. Jaina leaned back against the couch and sighed.

"This is Mitchell, is there a problem?"

"Captain Mitchell, this is Captain Allen. Your presence is requested at the hanger immediately."

"What for?" he asked. "I'm supposed to be off today."

"No, sir. You aren't guaranteed any days off until a new leader has been chosen for Echo Squadron. You're still the highest in command on that squad and the most comfortable flying with those boys. They're used to taking orders from you. From this point on, until a new man has been selected, you're double-teamed. We leave in ten, and your ship will be ready upon your arrival. Good day, Captain."

Brock threw down the comm and cursed under his breath.

"What's the matter?" Jaina asked, pulling their entwined hands onto her knee.

"I'm on call with Echo," he grumbled. "My squad leaves the hanger in ten minutes. I gotta go."

Jaina covered her disappointment with a smile. "Hey. Look at me." She met his frustrated eyes with a rueful smile. "Duty calls. I'll be around when you get back."

Brock rolled his eyes and then looked back to Jaina. "You better believe I'll be back. But before I go, I was thinkin-- maybe Us could go out Friday or something? We could-- talk, and hopefully not be interrupted."

Jaina smiled. "I can't wait. Don't forget, you've still got some convincing to do."

Brock grinned as he rose from the couch. "I wouldn't miss that for the world." He leaned down and dropped a light kiss on her forehead.

"I'll talk to you tonight."

Jaina let herself melt into the couch as Brock let himself out of the house. When she sat up moments later, her brothers appeared in the doorway wearing twin smirks.

"Messed up again?" Jacen teased.

"We are going to have one amazing first kiss." Jaina said walking past both of them. "Just you wait."

WEDNESDAY MORNING

Tristan Lockhart sat in her quarters, reviewing the information Cerberus had gathered on Brock Mitchell. He was perfect for the job. Not only was he becoming Zanetically involved with Jaina, but he had no family on Coruscant to speak of. No one to care about what happened to him. No one to miss him while he was gone. Tristan knew that the Jedi Knights would be leaving for Yavin soon and Brock would undoubtedly miss Jaina after a week or two. So all they needed to do was create some kind of disturbance to get Brock into space. When he was in range, they could pull him in and seize control of his fighter, and then-- then came the best part.

Lockhart entered the bridge of the Artemis. She could wait no longer. Today was the day the plans would become a reality.

"Cerberus, give me the new records on Captain Mitchell. Taurus, I assume the Meta-14 Compound is ready to test today?"

"Yes Admiral."

"Good." Tristan marched across the bridge. "Merlyn, give the Republic fighters a reason to fly up here. When you can detect their presence, release the compound pods onto their ships. Then bring back the pods so that they cannot be traced."

"But Admiral," Taurus interjected. "The Meta-14 is supposed to be used to subdue and alter victims after capture. What am I to do with the pilots once they are affected?"

"Don't do anything, Taurus!" Tristan growled. "Check them later and make sure the compound doesn't kill them. If it does, change it so that it's not lethal." Benjamyn's surprise must have shown on his face. "And be glad I didn't decided to test the Meta-14 on my own crew members." she continued.

Benjamyn swallowed hard and went back to work.

WEDNESDAY EVENING

Brock reclined on the couch daydreaming about 'convincing' Jaina. The buzz of the mobil-comm interrupted his thoughts.

"This is Mitchell."

"Good evening, Captain." Jaina grinned. "Whatcha doin?"

Brock swung his legs around and stretched out on the couch. "Thinkin about you. What are you doin?"

"The same. That's why I called. I know you were gonna call me, but I decided to call you instead because I have a question."

"Well, last time you asked me a question, we had a wonderful evening. So I'm looking forward to this one. Shoot."

"About Friday night-- would you want to come over here and hang out? It would be us and Jacen and Tenel and maybe a few other people."

"Sure."

"You sure you don't mind?"

"Of course not. As long as you'll be there-- and as long as we can have at least a little time to ourselves."

Jaina smiled to herself. "I'm sure we could slip out for a bit."

"So what's this party for?" Brock asked.

"Oh it's just a last little thing before we all head back to Yavin."

Brock froze. "What do you mean head back?"

Jaina smiled sadly. "Back to Yavin. Remember I told you? The banquet was my last big thing. Uncle Luke barely let me go to that. I'm leaving for Yavin IV at the end of this week."

Brock's heart skipped a beat, and his voice dropped to a lower, more serious tone. "How am I supposed to remember if you don't tell me?"

Jaina sensed a twinge of anger in his voice. "Brock, you know I have to go back. Coruscant is like my vacation. Yavin's like-- home. I have to finish my training! I won't be moving back here permanently for at least a year or so."

Brock was silent. What was he supposed to say?

"When were you gonna tell me you were leaving?" he stammered.

Jaina sighed. "I swear I already told you, Brock! I wouldn't forget to mention something so important!"

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time." he scowled.

Jaina's eyes narrowed. "I don't believe you! Why are you bringing that up? How can you still be mad about that?"

"Who said anything about being mad? I'm only saying that I'm not surprised."

"What the crap is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that just because something is no big deal to you, doesn't mean that other people are thinking the same way."

Jaina sat up in her chair. "Okay, wait a minute. Don't get mad at me. What's wrong with you? Why are you freaking out?"

"I'm not freaking out! It's just that--" Brock fell silent again. He wasn't ready to pour his heart out to her. But he thought they had something special! And now she was just going to leave! And in less than a week?

"Aww, Sparks-- what are you trying to... mmm, I mean, I just don't get it!" he sputtered. "Why don't you ever tell me the truth! I mean, are you really just afraid to tell me, or are you just so preoccupied with your important business average people like me get left in your royal dust?"

Jaina's mouth fell open. Brock had never spoken to her so harshly. "Excuse me, jerk, but could you put Brock Mitchell back on the comm?"

"Oh, now I'm a jerk?"

"You're being one right now!"

"At least I didn't stoop to name-calling."

"Name-calling!" Jaina slammed her hand down on the table in front of her. For the time being, her Jedi training was out the window. "You're the one calling me a self-absorbed snob!"

"No, I didn't," Brock answered in an unnervingly calm voice. "All I did was acknowledge the fact that we have a communication problem."

"Maybe you just have a memory problem." Jaina snapped back.

"Oh, so now you're going to insult me! That's mature, Jaina. Real mature. Really, I expected more from a princess."

"Well, maybe you expected too much of me. Or maybe Dad's right. Maybe I expected too much of you."

Dead silence.

Brock felt like he had been punched in the stomach.

"So the truth comes out at last." he muttered.

Jaina heard a click, and he was gone. Immediately, her words sunk into her mind. She dropped the comlink and covered her face with her hands. "What have I done?" She bolted out her door, down the stairs, out the front door and didn't stop until she reached Brock's apartment.

Brock sat paralyzed in his chair. "I can't believe this," he thought. "She actually said it. All this time I've been trying to convince myself I'm wrong, but I've actually been right. She thinks I'm not good enough for her..." The thought pounded his mind to the point where he felt as if he'd been physically beaten.

Jeremy barely noticed his frozen roommate as he made his way to the kitchen. Just as he reached for a drink, the doorbell rang.

"Sali, get the door."

"You get it! You're closer!"

Brock squeezed his eyes shut. "Stangit, Sal-- it's Jaina." Jeremy walked into the den and finally noticed his friend's anguished expression. Brock looked up at him and then turned away.

"Please, just go-- and tell her--- tell her to forget it. Tell her she's right. It's over."

Jeremy stared at Brock. "What? But why--"

"Vaping stars, Jeremy, just do it. Go."

Jeremy slowly made his way too the front door and opened it. Sure enough, there was Jaina, looking incredibly upset.

"Oh, hi Jeremy." Jaina said quietly, tucking her hair behind her ears. "Um, can I see Brock for a second? I really need to--"

"Uh, he's not-- accepting visitors... right now."

"You're kidding. I don't believe this. I have to talk to him! This is all my fault!"

"I'm sorry, sweetie. He told me to tell you to-- forget it-- and that you're right-- and it's over."

Brock flinched at the cold words he had put in Jeremy's mouth. He could no longer keep his emotions inside. He got up from the chair and stormed to his room, slamming the door behind him. He collapsed on his bed and hot, angry tears escaped his eyes, running down the sides of his face and into his hair. He swiped at them and fought the urge to smash something.

Jaina wasn't doing much better in the hallway. She ran her fingers through her hair in disbelief and tried to remain calm. But she couldn't. She didn't give Jeremy another look, but simply turned and walked down the hallway. "Oh no. Oh no. I'm so stupid. What is wrong with me?"

When Jaina heard Jeremy close the door, she broke into a stride, using more strength to hold back tears than to run. She arrived at the door of Tenel's apartment moments later, and rang the bell repeatedly. Tenel opened the door, and her happy expression turned to alarm at the sight of her best friend on the verge of a breakdown.

"Jaina! What's wrong?"

"Is Jacen here?" Jaina managed in a cracking voice.

"Yeah, come on in. Jacen!"

Jacen sensed his sister's pain before he saw her face. When their eyes met, Jaina covered her mouth, but could no longer hold back her emotions. She ran into Jacen's arms and burst into tears.

END PART FIVE


	6. Perfect Strangers: Time of Your Life

**NOTICE: the song lyrics have been removed from this chapter so ff.n doesn't delete anymore of my stories. Sorry… use your imagination.**

PERFECT STRANGERS: PART VI

This part is dedicated to Chelsea, Lauren, Ben, Chris, and Tim

Thanks for the memories:)

Echo Flight rules!

_THURSDAY AFTERNOON_

_443843-6245_

_I hate Brock Mitchell. I hate him, I hate him, I HATE HIM! All boys suck! Especially Brock. I can't believe this. I can't believe I wrote that the other night. I knew it was a lie. I knew it! I hate him so much. And somehow this is all my fault..._

Jaina lie on the couch in her brothers' room watching them play some target practice game on their M.I. system. She felt so awful. She was completely furious at Brock, but the worst part was, that she spent more time thinking of legitimate reasons to be angry with him than convincing herself he was a jerk.

She was angry that he wouldn't talk to her, and angry that there was nothing she could do to make him talk. But worst of all-- she missed him terribly. She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment.

Just then, there was a knock and the door to the boy's room slid open. Tenel's face appeared from around the doorframe. Jacen paused the game and he and Anakin pulled off their goggles. "Hey babe!" Jacen grinned.

"Hi, sweetie." Tenel answered, walking over to where he was seated on the floor. The couple kissed briefly and Tenel ruffled his hair. "Go on back to your game. I've gotta talk to Jaina." Jacen stuck out his lip and tried to look hurt. Tenel only grinned at him and kissed his forehead. Then she turned around to face Jaina, who had sat up on the couch. Tenel dropped down beside her and smiled. "Thought you had fallen asleep."

Jaina shook her head. "I wish. I haven't slept for awhile."

"Well, this couch is really comfortable. It's easy to fall asleep on."

Jaina smiled slyly. "Yeah, though I doubt you're ever sleeping when you're on it."

Tenel grinned, blushing a little. "Yeah well-- shall we move this conversation elsewhere?"

"Yeah, I guess." Jaina sighed. "Because we really need to talk. Actually you need to talk and I need to listen, because I don't know what to do."

The girls stood up and walked into Jaina's room. Jaina collapsed on her bed and groaned. "Tenel, I'm such a mess. What is wrong with me? I'm never like this! I don't know what is going on with--"

"Hang on a second, Jay." Tenel said sitting down in Jaina's conformer chair. "Back up. Lay there on that bed and tell me exactly what you feel."

Jaina looked at Tenel upside down, for her head was hanging off the edge of the bed. She pulled herself back up, so that all the blood wouldn't rush to her head and closed her eyes, clearing her mind.

"I feel-- angry." she grumbled.

Tenel rolled her eyes. "I know that, Jain. Come on. Do I have to walk you through this?" Jaina nodded pitifully. Tenel shook her head with a sympathetic smile. "You feel angry because..."

Jaina closed her eyes again, plunging into her feelings. "I feel angry because-- Brock won't talk to me. He's pushing me away and he won't even let me apologize for being mean to him! I mean-- I thought he was mature! I wasn't looking to start a fight with him, but you would think we could at least fight like adults! But no, he's probably locked up in his room moping right now."

Tenel suppressed a laugh. "And what exactly would you call this?"

Jaina sat up and glared at Tenel. "I'm not moping!"

"No, you're just whining."

Jaina's mouth dropped open. "Is that what I get for asking you to listen to me? Is that all you're going to do is make fun of me in my misery, and contradict what I'm saying and make me feel--"

Tenel looked at her best friend, eyebrows raised. Jaina stopped immediately, realizing her mistake. She covered her face with her hands and collapsed on the bed again. "I'm sorry, Tenel. I'm really sorry. I'm just-- I don't--"

"Jaina, it's okay. Stop trying to explain and just vent."

Jaina sighed again. "I'll try." She swallowed hard and lay down again. "I think more than being angry-- I'm hurt."

"That's better." Tenel said. "Now, why are you hurt?"

"Because-- because I thought everything was really going well between us. I was looking forward to what was going to happen, and now-- it's ruined. I pushed him away from me and made him feel inferior, which is exactly what I didn't want to do-- but I knew it was going to happen! I really did! It was practically inevitable. He already feels inferior because of my status and I made it worse by basically calling him-- well, 'garage scum' as my dad put it."

"That's true," Tenel answered. "But why do you think this is bothering you so much? I mean if he was just 'garage scum' then you certainly wouldn't want anything to do with him, right?"

"Right. But he's not scum. He's so far from it that it's not even funny. As a matter of fact-- I'm closer to it than he is right now." Jaina sighed. "I just want him to listen to me, Tenel. I want to apologize. I miss him so much. He's become like a-- oh, I don't know. I just miss him so much. I would give anything just to talk to him-- just to look at him. But I'm so confused! I never worry this much if someone's mad at me!" she growled. "Why am I so stressed about him!"

Tenel smiled slyly where Jaina couldn't see. Was she really going to say it? "Oh, I don't know." she answered. "Maybe because-- you care about him a little more than you thought?"

Jaina stared at the ceiling numbly. "I don't know. I mean, I know I care about him, but I..."

"Let me ask you this." Tenel interjected. "Would you feel the same way if say-- I was mad at you?"

Jaina thought for a second. "Well, sort of. But not really. You're my best friend but--"

"But you're not in love with me."

"Exactly." Suddenly, Jaina's hand flew to her mouth and she sat up straight on her bed. "What! NO! I'm not in love with him either!"

But it was too late. Tenel was laughing mischievously. "Ha! You are so! I knew it!"

Jaina jumped off the bed. "Shut up, Tenel, you shut up! I am not! I-I didn't mean to say--"

Tenel grabbed Jaina's hands and looked into her eyes with a huge grin. "Come on, Jain. You can't hide from me! And why would you want to anyway? You know it's true even if you don't want to believe it." Tenel looked at the floor and laughed softly. "Jaina, I haven't seen you this stressed since your fight with Taryn. Even then, I don't think you were this-- passionate about it. It's really okay! Brock is handsome and funny and charming and wonderful! What's not to love?"

Jaina looked away. Did she? Maybe? She didn't know. She was still too angry to know for sure. "I don't know." she finally whispered. "I'm not going to give you the satisfaction of knowing right now either, because if you're wrong--"

Tenel couldn't hide her grin. "Okay, okay, okay. Look, please, just answer me one question?"

"What?"

"If it came down to watching your ship be melted into a pool of hot metal, or living the rest of your life without Brock... which would you choose?"

Jaina glared at her best friend for a long moment, a smile threatening the corners of her mouth. "That's not fair, Tenel Ka. You know that's not fair. You know me as well as I do. And I don't think I could live through either situation."

FRIDAY EVENING

Brock entered the living room and collapsed on the couch next to Jeremy, who was watching T.V. Jeremy looked at his friend out of the corner of his eye. It had been almost three days since his fight with Jaina, and he was a different person; unhappy, somber, and depressed.

"How's it goin' Mitch?"

Brock exhaled deeply. "Bad enough to make me feel like I could go for a drink. Just to get me to sleep."

Jeremy turned to face his best friend, surprised. He could count on one hand the number of times he'd heard Brock say that in his life. He was really out of it. Jeremy pushed himself off the couch and kicked Brock in the foot. Come on, man. We need to get outta here."

"No, Sal, I don't feel like going any--"

"Nope, come on buddy. You can't let her do this to ya. There are millions of beautiful women on this planet. In this galaxy! You can't let one girl ruin your opinion of all of them."

"I'm not, Sal. I just--"

"Mitch," Jeremy said looking his friend straight in the eye. "Quit making excuses. Put your boots on and let's go."

"Where are we gonna go?"

"Out. You're driving me crazy with your moping around this place. If you don't snap out of this I'm gonna kill you."

"Thanks, man. I love you too."

When Jeremy finally coaxed Brock out of the apartment, he led him to one of the taverns where the fighter pilots spent the majority of their free time.

Jeremy ordered drinks for he and Brock, but Brock barely touched his. He stared into space, finding very little comfort in the poison that had stained his childhood. He stared at the amber liquid in his glass around and listened to the multiple conversations surrounding him. One in particular that caught his attention was between two young members of Red Squadron, sitting down the bar from them.

A dark-haired pilot of about seventeen downed half a glass of spiced ale and then sighed.

"Aw, this is almost as good as that stuff floating around in deep space!"

"What stuff?" asked his inebriated blonde friend.

"Haven't you heard about it?" the first answered. "People are sayin' it's some kind of invisible toxic shavit that'll penetrates your ship and get in your bloodstream and it trips you out for awhile-- but when you get back down it makes you all crazy or something."

"Sweet!" came the response. "We should try that tomorrow night!"

The dark-haired pilot smacked his friend in the head. "Stupid, you can't see it!"

Brock couldn't help but chuckle. He'd heard the story about the mysterious substance, but he didn't believe it. It had supposedly affected a few members of Red Squadron, but they were young and inexperienced. Extended periods of intense flying were probably the source of their high. As for the going crazy part, most of the Red Squadron pilots were notorious for having too much blood in their alcohol streams.

As the fighter pilots' conversation subsided, the volume of the music increased. Brock wasn't especially listening, but as he sang along in his head with the familiar song, he came to another upsetting realization.

"Vaping Sith, I forgot about-- the singing thing at Astraglo! I signed up and everything!"

Jeremy sipped his drink. "So? It's not until tomorrow. Why can't you do it?"

"I was gonna write a song for Jaina-- now I can't even talk to her." Brock laid his head down on the counter and buried his face in his arms. "This sucks. My life is so vaping screwed up."

Jeremy shook his head. "So write a different song." he said simply.

"About what?"

"About a guy who really liked this girl and then she vaping screwed his life up. Maybe you'll feel better or something. Got nothin' to lose; nothing's worked so far."

Brock considered the idea, and for lack of anything better to do, he decided to go for it. He remained in the bar for a few more minutes. Then, after building up his own confidence, he took a last sip from his glass and got up from his seat.

"Thanks for the drink, Sal. Take it easy. I'll see ya at home."

"Yeah, have fun. Later."

Brock opened the door to the apartment and walked inside, immediately collapsing on the couch. He lay there for almost half an hour, thinking. Suddenly, he sprang up and ran to his bedroom, grabbed his guitar and started scrawling down lyrics on a datapad.

Tristan glared disgustedly at Brock's melancholy image. "Why are they still fighting!" Tristan bellowed to her crew.

"I'm not exactly sure, Admiral." Captain Mycenae said, approaching her cautiously. "But as of right now, they aren't speaking at all."

Tristan grew very quiet for a moment and then her voice came in a threatening whisper. "How long has this been going on?"

"Three days, Admiral."

Tristan suddenly turned and shoved Mycenae into the wall. "I am not a patient woman, Mycenae. And right now, I am VERY angry. Do NOT send anything to Coruscant from him to her, because interference in this situation could jeopardize our anonymity and all of our plans for the destruction of the Jedi. I'm leaving you in charge. Keep the ship under control and monitor them closely! Come and find me the minute the situation changes."

Tristan disappeared into her quarters and fell into deep Force meditation to calm her anxiety.

Mycenae suppressed a grin at the honor bestowed upon him. This didn't happen every day! "This ship is MINE!"

Hours later, the Brock vs. Jaina situation was unchanged, and Mycenae had grown very bored. Since it was after hours, he invited Taurus, Merlyn and Cerberus to the ship's recreation wing to play cards. Cerberus refused, thinking it irresponsible and childish. The other two complied quickly, bringing along with them a few of the more attractive members of the flight crew called Myranda, Nichole, and Renee.

Cerberus happened to walk by the particular bar where they were, not recognizing them until he heard unmistakably the voice of Benjamyn Taurus yelling, "Mass fold!" He stopped to listen, growing angry with his shipmates for slacking off-- and angry with himself for refusing the party invitation.

"You can't do that!" Nichole yelled.

"I just did!" Taurus answered back with a sly grin. "Anyone else want Nichole to lose?" The rest of the players threw their cards into the middle of the circle and cried, "Mass fold!"

Nichole crossed her arms and sulked. Merlyn grinned and eased his arm around her shoulder. "Don't worry, sweetheart," he said playfully. "Maybe you'll be luckier later on tonight."

Nichole eyed him and then pushed him off the bed. "Don't get your hopes up, Lieutenant!" Myranda laughed and slapped hands with Nichole.

Mycenae suggested that they start a new game, because of all the cheating taking place. But a new round hardly stopped the dishonesty.

"Do you have six?" Taurus whispered to Renee.

Renee looked at him, one eyebrow raised. "A little forward, aren't we Captain?"

"I said six!"

"Sure you did." Renee grinned. "And yes, I do have six, but not for you."

Mycenae laughed and leaned over to peek at Renee's cards. "How about for your Captain?" he whispered.

Renee stared at Nicolas with a sly grin and pulled the six of diamonds from her deck. Taurus gasped. "What! I don't believe you!"

"Well, he's the Captain." Renee shot back.

"Oooh," Myranda teased. "You got ponkt! P-O-N-K-T!"

Renee grinned. "On second thought, it's a lovely offer, but your Admiral might get jealous. And personally, I don't want to be on her bad side." Renee put the six back in her deck and the rest of the players hid sneers and laughter behind their cards.

Mycenae's eyes narrowed. "I don't know where you heard that," he shot back crisply. "But it's a lie. Admiral Lockhart trusts me and appreciates my leadership. That is all."

"You're so convincing, Captain." Myranda quipped. "By the way, I win."

Everyone tossed their cards into the middle and Renee glanced at Mycenae. He was obviously upset. Oops. Time to bail. "Um, girls--" Renee began, standing from the bed. "Don't we have some stuff to set up for tomorrow?"

"Oh yeah!" Myranda answered, taking the hint. "We should probably get outta here. It's late. Nicki?"

"It's been fun, boys." Nichole answered, standing to leave as well. "Maybe we'll see ya around."

Merlyn got up to let the girls out and Renee put a hand on Nicolas' shoulder. "I didn't mean to upset you, Captain. I was just--"

"It's fine, Renee." he cut her off. "Forget it."

Renee shrugged at Merlyn and started out the door. Merlyn sighed glancing at Nichole. "You guys don't HAVE to leave. He'll get over it. He just--"

Nichole smiled sympathetically. "Nice try, Cris. Buh bye."

Merlyn shut the door behind them and groaned. "Geez, Nick. How often do we get company like that? Thanks a lot."

"As if you had a chance to begin with."

Taurus laughed and Merlyn shot him an evil eye. "Yeah, well if you just had to go and get all insulted. Renee was just messin around! And I don't know about you, but I'd mess around with her over Lockhart any day."

"Watch your mouth, Merlyn." Mycenae warned. "I'm still your superior."

"Yeah, you're so superior. Why don't you do something about your vaping Admiral!"

Nicolas' blood boiled. He sprang up off the bed and punched Merlyn squarely in the eye. Merlyn reeled back and Taurus jumped up to separate them.

"Hey!" Ben grabbed Cris to keep him from retaliating. "Captain, with all due respect, get out of here. Your status won't ever be the same if you screw up tonight."

Nicolas realized that Benjamyn was right, and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Five o'clock Saturday morning, Brock's work was finished. He dropped his guitar pic and leaned up against the wall, closing his eyes. He almost drifted off right then, but he kept his eyes open long enough to put his guitar on the floor and take off his shirt. After sending a quick handwritten note via his computer, Brock collapsed on his bed and fell asleep.

_4763253-4587_

_These have been the most miserable three days of my life. I never want to see Brock again. This is all his fault. I should have known better. I shouldn't have fallen under his spell. He's just the same as all the other guys. And I was stupid to think he'd be different..._

Jaina awoke at 9:30. As she rose from her bed and pulled her hair out of her face, she noticed the green message indicator flashing in the corner of her computer screen. She typed in her password to check the message. Scrawled in familiar handwriting were the words:

Sparks

Tonight. 20:30. Astraglo.

Last chance.

Mitchell

SATURDAY MORNING

The next morning, there was still no sign of the Admiral. Mycenae issued out the tasks for that day and did his best to be civil toward Merlyn. Ever since Renee's comment, he couldn't keep his mind off of Tristan, and now it had been two days since he had seen her. She really was not kidding about staying put until Brock and Jaina were reconciled, and Mycenae found it somewhat humorous. He wondered if she was in a Force meditation, strengthening her already immense powers. Or perhaps she was simply in her quarters, watching some form of cheap entertainment, eating chips and sulking. Or maybe she had even become so angry that she had drunken herself into a stupor at the bar and was now fighting a vicious hangover. The latter two made him laugh, but other thoughts prodded his mind that were not so amusing. He wondered if she would blame him for the couple's prolonged argument, or for blackening the eye of one of her crew members. But Tristan had never cared much for Merlyn anyway. However, she had never truly cared for him either, at least no more than as a friend. And that was what bothered him the most. He put the thoughts of her out of his mind, so not to hinder his progress and focused on his own day's work.

SATURDAY NIGHT

Brock was beginning to become bit worried. He was sitting at a table inside of Astraglo surrounded by Lucy, Jeremy and Zane. He hadn't heard a word from Jaina all day and it was 20:00 already. He had already tuned his guitar and made sure that he had two extra pics; one for his pocket, and one to chew on. He was in the process of shredding a napkin into tiny pieces when Lucy grabbed it out of his hand. She smiled sympathetically. "Calm down, Mitchie. She'll be here."

Just as the manager/emcee for the evening took the stage to introduce the first act, Brock heard the front door open. He turned around discreetly, and there she was, looking as beautiful as ever. He turned back quickly and let out a breath he'd been holding for three days.

Jaina seated herself quietly near the back of her favorite restaurant to watch the performers. She wasn't completely sure why she'd been invited here, for Brock was nowhere to be seen. But she was hoping to find him and at least talk to him for a moment. She was leaving for Yavin the next day, and she couldn't bear to go without some kind of closure.

The first three acts were good, but they didn't hold Jaina's attention. Her eyes wandered around the restaurant, looking for Brock, but only minutes later, the emcee's voice snapped her out of her boredom.

"Next up, ladies and gentlemen, is one of our newcomers. He's only played here twice, but he's pretty decent, so we decided to let him come back. Give it up for Brock Mitchell."

Jaina froze. This was the last thing she'd expected.

With soft applause agitating the butterflies in his stomach, Brock stepped onto the small stage with a dismal feeling that this was to be his last performance.

"Uh, thanks everyone. Tonight I'm gonna play a little song I started writing last night, and finished at 5:00 this morning." Soft laughed rippled through the spectators. "Sorry it's not a real happy song—" he continued. "But sometimes, you just gotta—say goodbye."

Jaina's eyes met Brock's in a slightly confused stare. It was the first time that the two had made significant eye contact in three days. Without another word, Brock dropped her gaze and began strumming a soft repetitive melody, and soon he began to sing a sad Green Day song that ff.n won't let me post.

Jaina sat still, unable to take her eyes from the stage. She tried to hear and remember every word he sang, but her mind was so busy processing what was happening that it was threatening to shut down. Though a part of Jaina wanted to disappear from Astraglo, another stronger part wouldn't allow her to move. Thoughts screamed through her head like TIE Fighters.

_"I don't understand! The end? Am I never going to see or talk to him ever again? How can this be the end? How can this be right!"_

Brock couldn't tell what going through Jaina's mind. Of course, he was more focused on singing, but he still longed to know. The chorus he sang aloud collided in his head with his inspiration for writing it.

_I never even dreamed I'd meet somebody like you. But it's better this way. We're from different worlds. I don't regret any time I spent with you, but I'm going to miss you like crazy._

When the song was over, the entire place applauded wildly. Jaina stood up and stared at the stage until she made eye contact with Brock. She held his gaze for a minute and then turned and walked out the door.

Brock's face fell. He hadn't planned on having to chase her down tonight. He left the stage and walked back to the table where his proud friends were seated. After accepting their numerous compliments, he handed his guitar to Lucy. "Hey, just make sure that gets home. I hate to run, but I have something to take care of." Jeremy and Zane exchanged a look and Lucy smiled.

"Thanks for comin', guys. Don't wait up, Sal." With that, he grabbed his jacket and raced out of the coffee shop after Jaina.

Brock didn't stop jogging until he reached the elevator. He stepped inside and pressed the button to the top floor. He felt like he'd been chasing a shadow, for Jaina was nowhere to be found. He wasn't sure why he was in such a rush to catch her; he had no idea what he was going to say when he did. Brock sighed and leaned against the wall of the elevator. The moment the door opened, he was out and bolting up the stairs to the roof. He ran through the greenhouse and out the back door to come face to face with the city. He looked out at the evening lights and the stars. There was no sign of Jaina anywhere. Disappointed, he walked to the edge and rested his elbows there with a sigh. He didn't even hear the door open behind him seconds later.

"Who ya lookin' for?"

"Geez!" Brock yelped, spinning around. "Don't sneak up on me like that!"

Jaina, standing in the doorway behind Brock, let the door close behind her and walked to the edge as well. "Sorry," She said standing a fair distance away from him, also looking over the edge. "You ran right past me. Didn't mean to scare you."

"You didn't scare me, you startled me." He answered dryly. He moved toward her and she remained silent, not amused.

After a long moment, Jaina broke the uneasy silence. "What happened to us, Brock?" she asked quietly, without making eye contact.

Brock snorted. "You decided you were too good for me, that's what happened."

"Brock, that was not true. That was me being angry and irrational. Everything I said that night was a lie. I can't even believe I said it. I'm sorry!" she paused and took a breath. "I just got defensive when you started accusing me of keeping things from you! I'm sorry I snapped at you, but you didn't even give me a chance to apologize!"

Brock remained deathly calm. "Why should you apologize for telling the truth?"

Jaina held his gaze helplessly. Sorry was too little too late. She'd shattered his confidence. She had thrown a trump card in their first argument ever and there was permanent damage to show for it. She paused for a moment, ran a hand through her hair and sighed.

"Brock, I do not want to fly off this planet tomorrow with our 'relationship' the way it is now. I know this is all my fault-- but I want you to let me fix it. And right now, you're--"

"You're a hell of a mech, Sparks." He interrupted, "But you can't just fix everything. As much as I'd love to forget what you said, I can't just pretend you didn't say it. You cut me deep, Sparks. And I know you're sorry now—but how can I know for sure that you don't really feel that way? I mean, what's to stop you from throwing your rank and your family name in my face every time you get pissed off at me! Who needs an inferiority complex hanging over their head? I sure as hell don't."

Brock gripped the iron ledge and turned his attention back to the city skyline. Jaina's hair was flying in her face and she forced an onslaught of angry tears from her eyes.

"Brock, what do you want me to do?" she asked, her voice rising with emotion. "What do you want me to say? I know I hurt you, but you never even gave me the chance to admit I was wrong! You slammed your door in my face and didn't talk to me for _three days_! Now, you still won't accept my apology because you think I'm lying, and in the meantime you sing me this song, which obviously states that you're through with me. Somehow, I don't see how in the end this is right!"

Brock jammed his hands in his pockets. "I don't like this anymore than you do, Jaina— in fact, I hate it-- but who are we kidding. We're from totally different worlds. This was bound to come up at some point. Maybe it's good that we caught it early. Cause if it hurts like this now, I'd hate to feel it six months from now."

Jaina's eyes narrowed and her hands flew to her hips. "So now you're wishing we'd never met?"

"No, it's too late for that. We can't go backwards."

"Even if you could, would you really want to?" she pleaded. "After everything we've done together, everything we've confided in each other about, everything we've felt? Now you wish none of it had ever happened?"

Brock remained silent.

Jaina shook her head incredulously. "You know, you should be a Jedi, the way you hide your emotions. Three days ago, you couldn't get enough of me—now you won't even look me in the eye."

"Do you ever think about anyone's feelings but yours, Jaina?" Brock shot back, slamming his hand down on the ledge. "What, you think I'm made of carbonite? You think everything I feel for you, all my desires, all the happiness you gave me—you think that all just vanished without a trace when I hung up the comm! It didn't, Jaina—it vaping didn't. In fact, it probably never will."

Jaina remained silent and Brock heaved a huge sigh and pushed his fingers through his hair.

"All my life, Jaina." He continued in a low voice. "All my life I've dreamed about living the life I was living three days ago. And just when I think that I've made it, when it looks like everything really might be okay, everything blows up in my face and I'm back to nothing. Nobody. But you don't know what that's like, do you?"

Brock stared at her for a second, then threw up his hands and walked past her to the corner of the roof, where he leaned with his elbows on the ledge. Jaina stood unmoving. She didn't realize how deeply her words had gone. For a few more minutes, she gathered her thoughts and let him cool off. Then she started slowly toward the corner where he stood staring silently at the city. She approached him from behind and stopped about three feet away from him.

"Maybe I haven't experienced the depth of loneliness that you have," she began. "But I do know what it's like to be alone." She took a deep breath and continued steadily.

"Look, you've been right from the beginning. We definitely have a communication problem. So I think it's about time I started telling you the truth. So-- here goes. I've had feelings for you since the first day I met you. I just never had the courage to make a move because I wasn't sure of those feelings. I figured if you really liked me, you would let me know. I know you had your doubts about a relationship with me after you found out my rank, and when you met my father. But I was hoping you'd be different, and disregard all that stuff-- and just take me at face value."

Brock slowly turned to face her, his hands in the pockets of his brown leather jacket. He looked into her eyes, his countenance calm, unreadable. Jaina stopped two feet away from him.

"I know you're upset with me, and you have every right to be. Maybe you no longer want anything to do with me, but-- I still have feelings for you. And they're strong enough that I know I'm not going to be able to watch a single sunset on Yavin without wishing you were beside me." Jaina drew another deep breath. "I'm not sure what's going to happen between us, or if things will even work out between us long term-- but I do know that I'm leaving within the next twelve hours-- and I'm going to miss you like crazy."

Brock remained silent, eyes averted to the ground. He finally met her gaze, and with hands still in his pockets, he replied,

"I'm definitely going to miss you more."

Jaina paused for a moment, then closed her eyes as her heart flooded with relief. The moment Brock's fingers cleared the edge of his pockets, Jaina grabbed him in a huge embrace. His arms surrounded her quickly and she felt his lips brush her windblown hair. Brock closed his eyes briefly and savored the feeling of having her against him.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you." he whispered.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you." She answered, her voice muffled in his jacket. "I'm sorry for everything. Please don't be mad at me anymore."

Brock smoothed her hair with his fingers and kissed the top of her head. "You're forgiven." Jaina smiled, and closed her eyes again, wanting to remain in his warm embrace forever.

But Brock pulled away. "Wait just a second," he said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. He opened it in front of her revealing the lyrics to the song he had sung only an hour ago. Then he refolded the paper and ripped it in half several times, and sent it flying into the atmosphere. Jaina grinned as Brock pulled her close with his right arm and cradled her face with his left. He brushed the edge of her lips with his thumb—

--just as the door behind them flew open.

Admiral Lockhart made her way quickly to the bridge spurred by a message from Mycenae. She found him staring into one of the monitors in the control room on the bridge. He stood as she entered the room, obviously delighted by her presence, but there was something forced about his sly smile. Something was not right. But there was no time to worry about him right now. There on the roof of some building stood the newly reconciled couple. Tristan laughed, despite her disgust. Then for the first time in a long time, she smiled at Mycenae and put a hand on his shoulder. "It has begun, Captain. Our operation begins tomorrow immediately after the departure of the Jedi Knights. Good night." And she departed from the room as quickly as she had come.

Mycenae slammed his fist onto the table in the empty room, furious at his own emotions for being so strong, and furious at hers for being indifferent.

"I mean really, who decided that midnight would be the best time to empty the trash bins in the rooftop gardens. Who?"

Jaina shook her head and leaned into Brock's shoulder. "Please find out while I'm away and tell my mother to have him fired."

Brock chuckled and rubbed her thumb with his. "Well, here we are once again."

Jaina had grown to despise the sight of her front door. She sighed and slipped her arms around Brock's waist, not wanting the evening to be over. She buried her face against his jacket and savored everything from the warmth of his arms and the feel of his heartbeat to the smell of his cologne mixed with the old leather. Brock held her silently for several minutes, wishing she didn't have to leave. His heart pounded, because he knew that in five minutes, he would be alone in his own apartment, and whether something happened between now and then was up to him.

Jaina finally pulled back a little and smiled at him. His eyes sparkled like fire, even in the dark hallway, and he looked hot in that jacket. "Thank you," she said quietly. "For not giving up on me, and for accepting my apology."

He tucked her hair behind her ear and smiled back. "You're welcome. Thank you for giving me a second chance."

"Of course."

Jaina reached up to hug him again, tickling his jawline with her lips on the way. Brock closed his eyes briefly. He was going to need a cold shower tonight. He gently swung her around so that her back was facing the door and eased her against the wall. There was no way to mess this up. Taking her face with his left hand, he lowered his lips to hers—

--and the air was filled with the sound of the Solo's Windsor chimes.

Brock and Jaina's eyes flew open and Jaina instantly felt the doorbell against her back.

"Vaping Sithspit!" Jaina cursed in a sharp whisper. Her father would open it any second. He had probably been sitting in the den waiting for the bell to ring. "How could this happen! Everything was going so--"

Brock interrupted Jaina with his lips, which touched hers in a soft, sweet kiss that lasted only a moment. Unable to speak, Jaina looked back into his eyes-- desperately wanting more.

"To be continued." he whispered. "Hurry back, I miss you already."

Brock could hardly bring himself to release her as the door opened. As Jaina had predicted, there was her father. He looked surprised and a little angry to see the two of them together.

Brock cleared his throat. "Good evening, Captain." Brock nodded. Then he turned back to Jaina, his fear of Captain Solo gone for the time being. He squeezed her fingers softly. "Have a good trip tomorrow. I'll see you soon."

Jaina was already counting the minutes until their next meeting-- until their next kiss. She slowly, reluctantly released his fingers.

"Goodbye, Brock."

END PART SIX


	7. Perfect Strangers: Bizarre

PERFECT STRANGERS: PART VII

THIS PART IS DEDICATED TO KASEY MCHENRY!

Many thanks for your unceasing patience and encouragement!

(As well as the steady bombardment of demanding emails :)

You are the coolest!

_4865345-4565_

_I love Brock Mitchell. I love Brock Mitchell! I LOVE BROCK MITCHELL! Oh yeah and we're on our way back to Yavin. And everything is perfect. And I miss him terribly already…_

Jaina sighed happily, lying on the bunk in the resting quarters of the Liberty. Tenel and Tahiri surrounded her, demanding details of the previous night.Jaina grinned, appeased them with the evening's highlights, and kept the intimate details to herself.

Several light years away, Brock was reclined on his couch in the middle of a similar inquisition. He missed Jaina so much already, but he couldn't keep a smile from his face.

"He's a disgrace to bachelors all over the galaxy." Jeremy teased. "Jaina Solo has turned him into a gooey, romantic mess." Brock rolled his eyes, but was in too good of a mood to retort.

"So is it official or not?" Lucy asked, sitting up on the edge of the couch.

Brock cocked an eyebrow at her. "What do you mean official?"

"I mean if I asked her if she was your girlfriend, what would she say?"

Zane rolled his eyes. "Only a girl would ask a question like that."

Lucy made a face at him, but Brock fell silent for a moment. "I don't know." he finally answered.

Zane laughed. "Bad question, worse answer."

Jeremy rolled his eyes and swung his legs over the side of his chair. "You don't know! After all this, how can you not know!"

"Well, I don't know that we have an official title. But I guess we're dating exclusively, or we will be when she gets back. I don't know if that's something we talk about later or if I can just assume."

"But you said you kissed her." Lucy pushed.

"I did-- kinda."

Lucy laughed. "What's kinda! There was either connection or not. There's no halfway!"

Brock rolled his eyes, and lowered his voice, embarrassed. "It wasn't what I wanted it to be, we ran outta time."

"They don't need a label, Lucy." Zane interrupted.

"Well, if there's no label, it's not socially official." Lucy explained. "And if that's the case, she's still fair game—so as long as you're okay with that…"

Brock glared at her.

Lucy smiled. "Yeah, you're totally not okay with that. You should talk to her about it."

"Luce, it's only been like twenty-four hours. She's light years away and probably really busy."

"So what? Do you love her or not?"

"Whoa, whoa—we don't talk like that in this house." Jeremy piped up.

Brock chuckled and tried to settle the feeling that shot through his chest like a laserbolt at the mention of the word.

For the next few days, Coruscant was fairly quiet. The few space runs to be made were mindless, and were given to Bravo Squadron as training exercises. The only excitement that had occurred was that a few pilots had come back down from missions disoriented and three pilots nearly crashed into the surface. The medical technicians were swearing it was something in the atmosphere, but they had yet to prove anything. However, after the third accident, Brock was sent up with Echo Squad to examine the area. All of the results came back negative, and Brock found it to be a huge waste of time. He had better things to do-- like sit in his room and write sappy letters to his long distance girlfriend. He missed her intensely and had to force himself repeatedly not to jump in his fighter and go finish that kiss.

Two and a half weeks went by, full of absolutely nothing, save for Jaina's sweet letters and holovids. Brock's will to stay on Coruscant had long faded. After much rationalization, he decided it was time for a surprise visit.

Around noon the next day, Brock walked at a fairly rapid pace down the hall toward the exit of the residential wing. He started toward the landing bays, trying to suppress a grin and a twinge of excitement. He neared his destination, but found he was suddenly joined by a large group of ranking officers. A crowd was gathering around the empty platforms where the Bravo fighters usually docked. Brock watched as a slew of x-wings entered the bay. Many, he noticed, guided by auto-pilot. His brow furrowed as he watched the scene.

Officers mobbed the landing fighters and as the younger pilots unmanned their ships, they fought against them with animal-like rage. "Where is he!" they screamed. "Where is he!"

Brock made his way to the deck officer. "What in the worlds is goin' on?" he asked.

"We don't know." the man answered worriedly. "We got a call in from a few of the pilots saying the team was acting kinda funny. When we asked them to return home, they all went berserk. Medics keep saying it's that stuff floating around in our atmosphere, but nobody--"

"There he is!" the cry rang out. "There he is!"

Dropping his bag, Brock spun around and suddenly found himself being rushed by David Knight, Captain of Bravo squadron, and half of his team. Brock put his hands up in defense, but not before David slugged him hard in the eye.

"You!" he screamed, grabbing Brock by the collar of his uniform. "They're coming for you! Just when you least expect it you'll be outta here. If I hadn't been ordered not to kill you myself, you'd be--"

Just then several officers caught up to David and his seven followers. That was more than half the Bravo team. Several officers, led by Captain Allen hauled the affected pilots in the direction of the med center. David continued to shout threats and obscenities at Brock until Captain Allen finally stunned him with a blaster pistol. Brock stood in shocked silence. The unaffected fighters began to trickle in one after another and they quickly descended their ship's ladders to find out what had happened to their squadron. People were whispering and asking questions, most directed at Brock. But Brock spoke to no one; he was trying to process what had just happened and who had suddenly put a threat on his head.

"Who's coming for me? Who even knows who I am? Brock let his fingers graze the left side of his face, which was starting to throb. Ten minutes later, the crowd began to dissipate and Brock turned to see one of the medical assistants flying toward him.

"Captain Mitchell!" The young medical assistant stopped in front of the confused officer. "Sir, I need you to come with me. We need to check out your injury, and I'm sure you'd like to know what's going on as well."

"No, no. I can diagnose myself. I've had black eyes, bloody noses and fat lips all before. I'm fine. Can you just tell me what's going on?"

"Well, not really, sir. The doctor wants to see you and talk to you."

"Look, I have somewhere to be!" Brock said kicking at the bag he'd dropped on the ground.

"I'm sorry, Captain. Doctor Myers was very insistent."

Not wanting to start another fight, Brock exhaled loudly and grabbed his bag off the ground. "This better be real quick."

Brock entered the crowded med center and followed the intern into an exam room. The young physician checked out Brock's face and discovered that nothing was broken, only bruised. He put a tiny transparent patch near Brock's temple to administer painkiller for his eye, which Brock found to be an awful lot of trouble for something so minor. Doctor Myers entered while his assistant was still working on Brock.

"Captain Mitchell, sir. How are you feeling?"

"Fine. It's just a black eye. No big deal. What's up with Dave?"

Myers sighed. "He tested positive for the same stuff we've been finding in Bravo pilots the past two weeks. We still don't know where it's come from, but apparently it's some sort of mind-altering drug. That's why David attacked you."

Brock nodded. "So what can you do?"

"Well, we're keeping him here of course. We'll run some more tests and try to determine what the stuff is made from so we can get an antidote for it. If we don't have anything, we may contact the Jedi Healers on Yavin to create something for us."

Brock's eyes lit up. Doctor Myers continued. "In the mean time, I think Captain Antilles wants to go up and check it out."

Just then there was a knock at the door. Doctor Myers motioned for his assistant to send whoever it was away. But upon opening the door, he found none other than the Captain himself.

"Doctor Myers, Captain Antilles is here to speak with Captain Mitchell."

"Oh very well, let him in."

Captain Wedge Antilles sauntered into the exam room and Brock stood at his presence. "It's alright, Mitchell, you can sit down. You alright?"

"Yes sir." Brock answered. "Just a black eye."

Wedge nodded. "Yeah, this stuff is more serious than we thought. Unfortunately, it took multiple shipwrecks and a threat on your life for us to do something about it. And I do apologize about that."

Brock shrugged again. "It's alright. What are we gonna do now?"

"We're sending Echo Squad up to check this out, this time with gear, so nobody gets hurt."

"Good, good." Brock responded. "When do we go?"

Wedge shook his head. "You're not goin' anywhere."

"Beg your pardon, sir?"

Wedge laughed in disbelief. "You're crazy if you think we'd let you go up after today. You just got a serious warning that someone or something is after you. I suppose there could be any number of random reasons, but I'm willing to bet that your new Solo family connection is to blame. Unfortunately, getting close to any of those kids is like volunteering to face a firing squad. You're staying here."

Brock sat up abruptly. "Excuse me, Captain, but I'm not staying anywhere. I'm going up with my team."

Wedge crossed his arms, surprised by the younger Captain's tone. "What makes you think you have the right to defy me, Mitchell?"

"I mean no disrespect, Captain," Brock answered quickly. "But I can't just sit around and wait for someone to sneak up on me. I am still Captain of Echo Squad. And if someone wants to threaten my life, they should at least have the decency to do it to my face."

There was a long mutual silence. "I'm fully aware of how dangerous it is," Brock began again. "But I just won't sit here and--"

"You're taking your life into your own hands, you know."

Brock straightened up. "Yes sir, I know."

Wedge shook his head and looked up at Brock. "Stubborn-ass boy," he muttered. "No wonder we made you a Captain." he slapped Brock on the shoulder. "They're leaving tomorrow morning at 0900."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, Captain Antilles." Brock answered.

Wedge pushed the button to open the door. "Don't thank me. Just don't get yourself killed."

THE NEXT MORNING...

Thrilled to finally be on a meaningful mission, Brock arrived at the hangar early the next morning. He was looking forward to the flight, but he hadn't forgotten about visiting Jaina either. Captain Antilles' voice snapped him out of his daydream.

"Captain Mitchell," he began, shaking Brock's hand. "You feel alright?"

"Just fine, sir."

"Alright-- well, watch yourself today. I mean-- I know you know what you're doing, but this stuff is dangerous. I don't want any of you boys up there longer than you have to be. Make sure you stay on task and get home as fast as you can, understand?"

Brock nodded. "Aye, Captain."

Wedge departed and Brock whistled loudly to call his team around.

"Alright guys, we're gonna split up and search the whole area around Coruscant. We don't exactly know what we're looking for, so if you see anything abnormal, don't hesitate to say something. And-- do me a favor a keep your comms on, just in case."

"Aye, Cap'n."

Brock glanced around the circle. "If there aren't any questions, let's fly."

The pilots broke their circle and headed for their individual ships. When they reached deep space, they parted and vanished in different directions. Brock sent out various probes and detectors that he had been given by Wedge to test the atmosphere. He moved his ship around in the area to observe from different angles and transmitted the results of the tests back to Coruscant. After he finished the tests, he cruised around for about twenty minutes, checking up on the rest of his team. But his heart and mind were far from Echo squadron. Brock was finally snapped out of his trance by the beep of a comlink.

"Uh, guys?"

"What is it, Sal?"

"Well, I was wondering if anyone else had little red ships on their radar."

Brock glanced at his starboard to see tiny red dots moving in on them from all sides.

"What the--? Shields up now, Echoes." Brock spun his fighter around. Nothing. "Does anybody see them?"

"Negatory, Captain."

Brock swore under his breath. "I wasn't planning on a fight, so I hope you guys are up on your combat skills. Keep your eyes open."

Strangely, the search went on without a disturbance for several more minutes, until Lucy beeped in.

"Something's coming up, Cap'n."

"Where at, Lucky?"

"Five, six and seven."

Brock glanced at his scope. Two familiar ships were barreling down on him rather quickly.

"TIE Fighters!" he stammered in disbelief. "Where did those come from!"

"I was wondering myself, Cap'n!"

"Sithspawn! No time to figure it out, here they come! On the offense, Echoes!"

Tristan stomped across the bridge. "How many did you send out, Cerberus?"

"Twenty, Admiral."

"Fine, I don't care how they do it, just get the Captain."

"Stangit." Taurus cursed. "Our numbers are falling. Rather quickly."

"What!" Tristan growled. "I don't want any casualties now! We're going to need those pilots later! Draw them this way!"

Taurus alerted the pilots and they began to recoil toward the Artemis.

Echo squadron chased the fighters a little further into space. Brock watched as many of them suddenly backed off. Several fighters remained, but the rest had seemingly vanished into thin air.

Jeremy fired once more and sent shrapnel flying everywhere. "They're retreating, Mitch."

"Where'd they go?" Lucky asked.

"I don't know." Brock answered.

"Should we follow them, Cap'n?" Zane asked.

"No." Brock answered, feeling a sudden calm about the attack. "No, I don't think we should follow them. If they have reinforcements, we aren't ready to take them on. Let's blast the rest of these guys and get outta here."

"What's happening, Taurus!"

"I've pulled back all of our manned fighters. I left the droid operated ones so the Echoes can blast them and believe they're rid of us."

"Fine, Did you get him?"

Taurus grinned. "We lost one man, but we're about to gain another one. I've got Merlyn's signal."

Lockhart suppressed a victory laugh. "Oh, you're all mine now, Captain!"

After a spirited fireworks display, the last of the enemy fighters were gone. Brock sighed with relief. The victory had been relatively easy and he didn't think much of the strange old ships. "Probably some stupid thieves. Got sick of their old TIE's and tried to jack some x-wings instead."

"Alright, Echoes, good job on short notice."

"Your ship alright?" Jeremy asked. "You got popped by that last one."

"I did?" Brock asked. "Geez, I didn't even notice."

"Must be those 'come hither' vibes radiating from Yavin IV." Zane chimed in. "Messin' with your head, huh Cap'n?"

The whole squad laughed and Brock rolled his eyes.

The rest of Echo squad counted off and each member was accounted for. Brock pondered a thought. This surprise attack was definitely important, and there was even a chance that this could have something to do with the earlier threat on his life. He knew Captain Antilles would have his head if he didn't come straight back, but-- Jaina.

His trip to Yavin had been canceled by higher power-- but higher power was no longer present—at least for the moment. Yavin was remarkably close to where they were. And he was sure Jaina could use a break from training.

"Uh, guys, I have some unfinished business to attend to before I head home."

The pilots snickered again. "Uh huh." Jeremy teased. "Don't even bother with the cover, Mitchie."

"Can you blame me?" Brock laughed.

"Brock, are you sure about this?" Lucy cut in. "After this fight, Captain A is sure to--"

"Lucky, I can't stand it down there any longer. I've gotta go. I'll be home in a few days!"

"Guess we don't have to tell you to have fun." Jeremy said over the intercom. "But what do we tell Captain?"

Brock thought for a moment. "Well, I've already sent back the test results so he shouldn't have too much to whine about. You can tell him I went to inform the Jedi healers about what's going on."

Jeremy shook his head. "Alright. I'll make sure we get back in one piece."

Brock smiled. "Thanks Sal. I'll see ya!"

Brock reset his course and pulled away from the group. As he waited for his squad to jump into hyperspace, he felt a chill of excitement run through his veins. He was on his way.

"It's working. It's working!"

The crew of the Artemis was in an uproar. He was headed directly at their ship. Just a bit further and he would be locked in the tractor beam.

"Benjamyn Taurus!" Lockhart bellowed.

"Everything's a go, Admiral!" Taurus shouted. "He's flying straight this way. We're just waiting to get in range!"

Tristan grinned. "Merlyn just saved his own life. I knew I kept him around for a reason!"

Brock relaxed as his ship drifted in the direction of Yavin. He was so happy to finally be on his way that he felt a little lightheaded. He shook his head. _Concentrate, Mitchell._ he told himself. _Concentrate so you don't wreck before you get there!_

Brock looked up and noticed that his ship had changed direction from the way he had programmed. Surely he hadn't been that groggy. He messed with the direction controls and found himself heading around the far orbit of Coruscant. "What's going on? I don't have control!" Brock frantically tried several buttons and levers on his starboard only to be disappointed. He looked up, again and his mouth fell open. "Where did that come from?" A massive ship loomed in front of him. All of his weapon systems, communication controls, and direction controls were down, and he was locked in their tractor beam, moving steadily toward a small door on the side of the ship. There was nothing to be done. He didn't stand a chance. He reached down and made sure his blaster was set to "kill".

Jeremy successfully brought Echo squadron back down and was immediately greeted by Captain Antilles in the landing bay.

"What happened, Salinas?"

"Well, believe it or not, we had a little skirmish with some TIE fighters, but we beat 'em and everything's fine."

The Captain's eyes widened. "TIE fighters?" he paused. "That's strange. Where's Mitchell?" Wedge inquired.

"He said to tell you he was goin' to Yavin to talk to the Jedi Healers?"

Wedge cursed under his breath. "He disobeyed me! I swear-- I gave him very clear instructions!"

Brock sat frozen in the cockpit. His anxiety had driven away the grogginess that had overcome him in the cockpit. The room he had been pulled into was completely white. It looked like something out of an eerie dream. There was not a life form in sight, and the room looked as if it had been built around his x-wing and sealed shut. He wondered if there was any way out. After much contemplation, he popped the canopy and climbed out of the x-wing. Drawing his blaster, he searched the room for a door or an opening in the walls. But before he could walk ten feet, the top of the walls began to move. Tiny doors slid open around the perimeter of the ceiling. Brock fixed his eyes on the holes and waited for something to happen, but nothing ever did. Or at least, he didn't see anything. But after about a minute, he began to feel dizzy and weak. He made a shaky attempt to re-board his x-wing, but he collapsed after only a few steps. He lay on the floor for what felt like an hour, but was really only a few minutes. Finally, a larger door opened and two men in heavy black boots and masks came into the room. He tried to sit up and ask a question, but he was so disoriented that such a complex task was impossible. He fell to the floor again and one of the men rolled him over on his side. Then without warning, the other man stabbed what had to be a needle into his neck, and seconds later his thoughts and vision faded to black. The two men then lifted him from the floor and carried him out of the room.

Closing the doors, Commander Taurus pulled the mask from his mouth and smiled at General Cerberus.

"All too easy, wasn't it, Captain?"

END PART SEVEN


	8. Perfect Strangers: Attacked

PERFECT STRANGERS: PART VIII

Jaicob and Benjamyn re-entered the bridge to a roar of cheers. The entire crew carried on with cheers and applause until Tristan silenced everyone. "Hold it, men! The real hero is not even among us. Taurus, get Lieutenant Merlyn on the line."

Grumbling, Taurus paged his planet dwelling comrade. When he made the connection, he handed the comm to Tristan.

A mobil-comm vibrated on Merlyn's belt as he sat in the break room of the Coruscant clinic.

"This is Marc Henry."

"Marc Henry?" Tristan said masking a smile. "Oh, you must be Dr. Myers' new intern."

"Yes ma'am, that's exactly who I am." he grinned recognizing his Admiral's voice.

"Well, if you happen to run into a young Commander named Cristopher Merlyn, let him know that his deeds have not gone unnoticed and we look forward to his arrival home."

Merlyn's mouth fell open. Commander! "Yes ma'am!" he answered enthusiastically. "I'll let him know!"

ABOUT EIGHT HOURS LATER...

Mycenae sighed as he entered the small room where he had stored his effects prior to the operation. The whole process, from the first tests to the last injections and test results, had taken nearly all day. The Captain removed his scrubs and pulled his uniform jacket back on, a little unsettled. It was the worst feeling in the galaxy to be annoyed with someone for a reason they could never understand. He hated the way Tristan had been eyeing the patient before the procedure, and the way she had acted while it was taking place. He knew she was excited, but there was something else behind her emotion that sparked jealousy in his heart. The way she smiled down at the boy, the way she touched his face and-- ugh, it made him sick to think about it.

On the other hand, the procedure had been carried out flawlessly. Though lengthy, Dr. Alecto was very thorough and didn't overlook a single stage. The first serum had disabled his anamnesis, so the boy would have no memory of anything prior to the surgery. The second stage had put his mind into submission so that Tristan would have complete control of him, and the third actually altered his personality and his reactions to certain situations. "For example," Alecto had explained, "Some of our tests revealed that he still harbors anger against his father. Traumatic childhood experience I suppose. Anyway, we will now be able to call forth that rage and enhance it, allowing him to exhibit advanced fighting techniques, animalistic rage, zero tolerance for anything. He's going to be a perfectly savage beast when we're through with him."

Savage beast or not, Mycenae would have no problem taking him out. If he dared to make any moves toward Tristan, there would be a severe price to pay.

_"What's wrong with you?"_ he scolded himself. _"Why should you take anyone out for Tristan? She's never cared about you or done anything for you! Why do you follow her around like a trained animal!"_

"Because--" he muttered softly. "Because I'm stupid and completely pathetic."

"What was that, Mycenae?" Tristan asked as she appeared around the doorway. Mycenae quickly lost his train of thought.

"Um-- I said I wonder how long that kid's going to be apathetic?"

"Oh," Tristan grinned deviously. "Hopefully not very long."

Mycenae's stomach churned. He turned his focus to reattaching his weapons. "Where are the other two?"

"They're coming." she answered, glancing behind her to make sure no one was there. Then, to Mycenae's delight, she lost herself for a minute.

"Nic, we did it! It's finally over!" she hugged Mycenae tightly around his neck. "You've stuck with me since the very beginning and now, here we are at the end." She quickly released him and smiled. "Thank you, Captain."

Nicolas was flying. "Of course, Tristan." he whispered, stunned by her actions. Maybe there really was a first time for everything.

Just then, Taurus and Cerberus appeared from around the corner with Dr. Alecto. The five crew mates stepped outside and into the long hallway.

The doctor smiled and extended his hand. "Well, it was a pleasure to work with you, Admiral. You too, gentlemen." Tristan shook his hand.

"So as for tonight, everything is finished?" she asked.

"That's right."

"Perfect. Tomorrow morning we'll check on him and then ship him out." Tristan said as the door closed behind them. "We can't waste any more time."

"Excellent, we'll see you in the morning."

Cerberus, Taurus, Mycenae and Lockhart continued down the hallway. "Well," Taurus began, "We've been in that lab like all day. It doesn't seem right just to go home. What should we do?"

Tristan smiled slyly as the group reached an intersection of the ship. "Since I'm in a good mood for the first time in years, go join the rest of your men at the cantina."

Taurus eyes grew wide. "You gave the whole crew the night off!"

"This is a once in a lifetime accomplishment, Benjamyn! Now remove yourself from my sight before I change my mind!"

At that, Cerberus grabbed Taurus by the arm and pulled him down another hall. Mycenae hid a smile. Alone once again.

"Well, today has certainly been eventful." he agreed. "But even the greatest Admirals have to relax every now and then. Would you care to join me?"

Tristan looked back at the Captain. "What did you have in mind?"

Mycenae smiled mischievously. "What's an entire crew in a bar with no Admiral?"

Tristan made a face, and then glanced back at Nicolas. "Oh gods," she laughed. "You're serious, aren't you?"

Nicolas shrugged.

Tristan looked up at Mycenae and finally sighed. "Oh-- why not."

Pleased, Nicolas offered Tristan his arm, not expecting her to take it. When she did, he grinned and pulled her in the direction of the onboard cantina.

The ship-wide celebration was audible before it was visible, and the pair was greeted with a round of applause and whistles as they entered. Nicolas ordered two shots and then, grinning at Tristan, climbed up on top of the bar.

"Hear ye! Hear ye!" he shouted across the crowded room. "I wish to propose a toast!" The crowd turned to face him and Nicolas raised his glass, glancing down at Tristan. "To the greatest Admiral the Artemis has ever seen! May you have continued success in your quest to overtake the galaxy! Cheers!" The entire tavern erupted in cheers as the crew downed their various portions of alcohol.

Tristan suppressed a laugh as she swallowed her own shot.

Nicolas and Tristan left the bar long after they had planned. The evening had been riotous. Mycenae lost count of his shots after eight, and engaged in drinking games he hadn't played since his time at the Imperial Academy. But what he found absolutely hilarious was that Tristan was even more plastered than he.

About 0200, Nicolas and Tristan headed for home, step by unsteady step. The Captain escorted his Admiral down the corridor on his arm and they giggled wildly, stumbling every step. They finally stopped in front of Tristan's door and Tristan laughed as Nicolas tripped over her feet and knocked both of them into the wall. He grinned sheepishly and she started laughing hysterically. Nicolas froze for a moment in his drunken stupor. Tristan was less than three inches from his face and her beautiful, usually non-existent smile was more intoxicating than all of the alcohol he'd consumed that evening. The dim hallway lights made her look positively seductive. His mind swirled with thoughts and he suddenly knew that he couldn't stand it any longer. It was now or never.

Her laughter died down as his fingers brushed her face.

"That was some fun, eh?" she grinned.

"Tristan—" he began, as confidently as possible. "I think I'm in love with you."

Tristan took a moment to process his slurred sentence, but before she had time to object and before he lost what was left of his nerve, Nicolas took her face in his hands and kissed her. He could feel her surprise at first, but after a moment, her hands were all over his face and his chest. They made out for a good couple of minutes in the hallway, until Tristan released him momentarily. Then she reached up and grabbed his uniform by the collar, pulling his face down eye level with hers.

"You should come in." she whispered clearly.

"Why?"

Tristan grinned mischievously unsnapped the button at his collar.

"Cause I wanna show you something."

Nicolas' eyes widened and he grinned, nearly overcome with giddiness. The couple barely made it into her quarters, releasing each other only momentarily so that Tristan could open her door and stumble into the darkness.

Nicolas awoke the next morning with a tremendous headache and an unfamiliar warmth at his side. It didn't take long for reality to set in. He grinned at the beautiful figure asleep against his chest. This couldn't be real. It was simply too good to be true. Not wanting to ruin the moment, he decided not to wake her. He caressed her smooth, bare shoulder with his fingers and when she stirred, he brushed her forehead lightly with a kiss.

A moment later, her eyes flew open in alarm. Nicolas smiled. "Morning." he whispered.

Tristan didn't answer, but she sat up quickly pulling the covers over herself. She quickly fell back on the bed, clutching her head with both hands.

"Oh gods." She moaned. "What happened? How did we get here?"

Nicolas chuckled, rolling over onto his side. "That's funny, I don't quite remember either."

Tristan focused all of her energy to stop her head from spinning and sat up again. She saw her clothes lying all over the floor, obviously discarded in a rage of drunken passion. She groaned softly and then turned to look at Nicolas. Her mind went blank and she squeezed her eyes shut. "Computer, time?"

"0838 a.m."

Tristan cursed under her breath and called a blanket to her hand from the floor. She wrapped it around herself and climbed out of bed. "I don't believe this." she mumbled. She grabbed a uniform from her closet and locked herself in the bathroom. She threw everything on the floor and covered her eyes with her hands. She didn't know whether to cry or collapse or just scream. She couldn't think about it at all. She dropped her blanket and slid into the shower.

Nicolas was in heaven. Even the severity of his hangover was not enough to darken his mood. In one night, his entire world had been turned around and the woman he had adored for years was finally a part of him. Though at the moment she seemed set on distancing herself from him, he knew she would come to herself soon. He climbed out of bed and pulled on his pants just as the water in the fresher shut off.

Tristan stepped out of the fresher, dressed for work. Warm water combined with the Force had assisted in soothing her massive headache, but she had never felt more uncomfortable about making an entrance into a room. She took a deep breath and opened the door, barely glancing at Nicolas as she made her way through the bedroom to the living room. Nicolas frowned and followed her into the den. She was sitting on the couch to pull on her boots when he emerged from the bedroom. Walking up behind her, he leaned over the back of the couch and pulled back Tristan's damp hair to kiss her. "You in some kind of hurry?" he whispered. Tristan jumped at his touch and quickly stood from the couch. She stared at Nicolas for a minute, but then averted her eyes and took her weapon belt from the table.

"Under the circumstances, Captain, I won't hold it against you-- but you are late for work." she finished coldly, not giving him another look.

Mycenae's brow furrowed. ""I'm late for work!"" he asked incredulously. "You take me for a ride like last night, and now all you can tell me is that I'm late for work!"

"Don't start with me, Nic." she warned. "I don't have time to discuss this now."

"Discuss? You're leaving!"

"Of course, I'm leaving," she bit out. "I have work to do. And so do you."

Nicolas stumbled around the couch. "Wait a second, Tris, you can't be serious. Do you really think your crew is going to be cognizant this morning? I-I mean you've gotta be more hungover than me and I can barely see straight." Tristan did not answer, but attached her saber to her belt and started for the door. Nicolas shook off his fog as he blocked her path. "Baby, hold on just a second--"

"What did you call me?" she snapped, spinning to face him.

Nicolas looked dimly at her. "Nothin'. Nothin', I just-- listen, what's the rush? We can hang out here, it's not like I'm gonna say anything about this and--"

"Damn right, you're not." she growled, glaring at him. She grabbed her uniform jacket and started for the door again.

"Tristan wait," Nicolas pleaded again. He forced a smile as he stepped in her path. "Come on, what's the matter with you? You weren't like this last night."

Tristan stared through him. "Everything about last night," she said through a thinly veiled snarl. "Was an accident."

Nicolas' blood froze. He barely felt her push against him and walk out of the flat.

"Good morning, Admiral." The young receptionist greeted Tristan. "You can go on back, he's awake already. And not the most pleasant patient we've ever had, I might add."

Tristan forced a smile and headed for the back room. She quickly pushed disturbing thoughts of the previous night from her mind. The last thing she needed today, was a distraction.

She reached the end of the hall and glanced through a tiny window at her masterpiece. She grinned with excitement. The boy looked strong and capable-- and he was much more attractive than she'd realized. At the moment, he was sitting on the edge of his bed in the barren recovery room and he stood up quickly as she entered.

Lockhart concealed a smile as she closed the door behind her. "Morning, sweetheart."

"Who are you?" he snapped. "What is this place?"

The Admiral frowned. "I am your Admiral Tristan Lockhart, and you will treat me accordingly. This is my ship, the Artemis. And you--" she smiled seductively as she walked toward him. "You are my chosen one; my servant, my headhunter. I've waited six lonely years for you." He glared at her as she moved to stroke his face, and jerked away like an angry animal at her touch.

"Why should I work for you?" he growled. His eyes flashed a frightening radioactive emerald color.

"Because I've given you power." she answered, calmly approaching him. "I created this part of you. I selected you over millions of others, and brought you here. I gave you a gift-- and this is the thanks I get? I should have you spaced immediately."

He eyed her with a confident smirk. "But you won't."

Admiral Lockhart looked back at him, a smile creeping to the corners of her own mouth. "No, I won't. I just might keep you for myself.-- But then, all my plans would be ruined."

"Plans?" he countered. "Who says I'm following your plans?" He moved in to intimidate her. "You've given me power," he continued. "So what's to prevent me from running off with it on my own?"

Lockhart's gaze narrowed. "Because I can take your power as quickly as I've given it to you. At any given time, I can shut you down like a droid and you'll be completely helpless. Without me-- you are nothing."

He glared at her for a moment and then, realizing he had been mastered, crossed his arms. "What do you need me for?" he muttered.

Ahh, the joy of submission. Lockhart smiled sweetly. "So glad you asked."

AFTERNOON AT THE JEDI ACADEMY...

It was a lovely day for the citizens of Yavin IV. The winter chill was beginning to burn off and the sun shone brightly over the hardworking Jedi students. They had already completed their group exercises and Master Skywalker had instructed them to work on their combat skills against each other. Something was telling him they needed the preparation.

Tenel and Jaina had wandered out into the woods and found a clearing to spar in. But while Tenel was pulling her long hair back, she noticed that there was something unusual in her friend's face.

"What's the matter, Jaina? Everything okay?"

Jaina ignited her saber and turned down the intensity setting. "I'm fine!" she lied.

Tenel's brow furrowed. "I don't believe you."

Jaina rolled her eyes. "Well, you should. Let's go!"

Shaking her head, Tenel complied and lit her own blade.

Creeping stealthily through the jungle, he listened over the squawking animals and kept his eyes wide for signs of trouble. The jungle was virtually empty. It was a perfect setup. He swung the blaster rifle off his shoulder to make sure it was ready for action. His hands nearly trembled as he ran them over the slick, high powered weapon he'd been given. He had been instructed to sneak into the main meeting area of the Academy and destroy everyone and everything in sight. But if he could take out a few before he got there, it would make his job that much easier. Images flashed through his mind of the students screaming and running in terror at the very sight of him. A diabolical grin crossed his face as dropped further into the foliage and made his way closer to the populated area.

Tenel and Jaina collapsed simultaneously after half an hour of intense sparring. Jaina pulled her long ponytail down and wound her hair up in a tight bun, away from her neck. She heaved a deep sigh and leaned against a tree stump. When Tenel caught her breath, she turned to her best friend.

"Good fight. But-- you weren't all there. You're keeping something from me. Come on, tell me what's wrong. What's goin' on?"

Jaina sighed again. "Nothing. I told you, I'm fine. I--"

Tenel said nothing, but simply glared at Jaina with wry skepticism. Jaina sighed.

"I just-- haven't heard from Brock in a while. A few days. Until now, he's been getting in touch with me somehow every night! But I haven't heard a word from him in almost four days. He won't answer his comm, and I know we're not really together, and he's probably just busy and all-- but still."

Tenel put her arm around Jaina and hugged her. "Don't worry too much, Jain. You're probably right about him being busy. He got doubled teamed right before we left, remember? He's probably flying for anyone who will let him, any chance he gets, to keep his mind off of you, so he doesn't go crazy!" She smiled and stood up, reattaching her saber to her belt. "You watch," she continued. "He'll call you tonight and apologize for like half an hour for not calling all week. But until then, just try to think about something else. Like maybe a strategy to defeat the greatest Jedi warrior princess that ever lived."

Jaina smiled in spite of her mood. "Why? I'll never have to battle myself."

Tenel playfully kicked Jaina in the leg and they both laughed. "Well," Tenel said finally. "I'm going to head back. You want to come now? Or do you want to sit here a while longer?"

Jaina pulled at a rip on the knee of her pants. Then she looked up at Tenel. "I'll come with you." Tenel helped her friend up and then darted off into the jungle. "We'll see who the faster warrior princess is!" Jaina took off after her.

An unnatural disturbance broke through the usual jungle cacophony. Sinking down into the brush, he waited. The noise was coming from behind him, deeper in the jungle than he was. Anyone that deep in the forest could be nothing but trouble. But whoever it was wouldn't be around long enough to tell anyone about him. He finally spotted it, flying through the trees. But it was no threat to him. Nothing was. Eyes aglow, he leveled his rifle at the moving object, and fired twice. His victim tumbled to the ground.

Tenel hit the jungle floor face first. The pain in her head was exceeded only by that in her side and her leg. She immediately tried to move, but nearly screamed in agony. "Okay, I'm not going anywhere quickly." she thought.

At the sound of the strange noise, Jaina looked up from her sprint and her face fell. Tenel was gone. "Tenel?" she called. Why would she run off like that? Jaina heard the noise again. Strangely enough, it sounded almost like a--

"Oh, sithspawn."

"Tenel!" she screamed. Jaina picked up her sprint again, running in the opposite direction from whoever was firing at her. She knew she should probably drop, but some part of her insisted that she keep on running.

Tenel's mind raced. Half of it was in shock from having been shot and the other half couldn't decide what to do next. She didn't quite know how to warn Jaina, because she wasn't sure what had happened. But the biggest problem right now was staying conscious. She blinked her eyes over and over to stay awake. It seemed to be the only part of her body that wasn't screaming in pain. But after much resistance, she decided that playing dead might be the best thing to do. At least whoever shot her would leave her alone. In her last conscious moment, she whispered,

_Jacen--- help--- hurry..._

Jaina evaded every blast that flew in her direction for a while, and even the sharp burn in the back of her shoulder didn't stop her. The barrier that did force her to halt was Tenel's own limp body on the forest floor.

Cursing under his breath, he looked up from behind the scope. He had missed! The girl was closer to camp now, and if she made it all the way in, his scheme would be ruined, and he would be punished. "I will not be defeated before I have begun." he thought. "Screw this sniper bit. I'll take her down myself." Dropping his gun, he charged after her.

Jaina rolled across the leaves and tried to spring to her feet, but she couldn't. The state of Tenel's body had paralyzed her. She didn't even realize that she had been hit also. Her elusive attacker was nowhere to be seen. She closed her eyes, trying to focus and determine where the shots had come from. She barely had to concentrate. A dark, savage power was fast approaching and before Jaina could get to her feet and ignite her saber, it was knocked away and the intruder was upon her, his strong, cold, hands encircling her neck and cutting off her air supply. The two rolled over and over, Jaina trying her hardest to improve her situation. But her efforts didn't seem to have much of an effect on her assailant. There were several defense mechanisms that she could have used to her advantage, but they all took at least a few seconds notice to activate. A few seconds she never got.

_Jacen! Ani--- Jacen, I need you---_

"Toby, hang on a second." Jacen said backing away from his sparring partner, a sixteen year old student named Tobias. "Where's Jaina?"

"What's the matter?" Toby asked. Jacen stood frozen for a second, confused. "I don't really know." he muttered. Without another word, Jacen deactivated his saber and jogged across the campus, surprised to see his brother on the move toward him.

"A.J.," Jacen called out. "Did you hea--"

"Yeah, yeah I did." Anakin interrupted, slowing down as he reached his brother. "I thought I was imagining things. Let's go." Both boys turned and bolted toward the jungle.

Tobias watched them start to run away. "Jacen!" He called out. "Wait! What's going on?"

"Don't follow us out, Tobias!" Jacen shouted back. "Get Master Luke. Hurry!"

Jaina and her aggressor tumbled over each other as they rolled across the jungle floor, but somehow, she always wound up underneath him. She had never fought a large wild animal, but she imagined it would be something like this. She got a couple of good swings at his face, but he kept his hands around her neck whenever possible, but it was as if he hadn't had much practice inflicting pain on people. His combat skills were hardly that of a dangerous criminal, but the fact that he was stronger and had hit her with a surprise attack gave him the advantage.

Jaina wished for a blaster or even a big stick. There was a chance she could have called a weapon to her hand, but it wasn't worth the risk. Divided attention could be deadly. If she took her focus off of him and his hands, he could easily crush her windpipe.

If only she could get him off for one second.

She glared up at him as menacingly as possible, and for the first time she got a good look at his face. Of course it was covered almost completely by a black mask, but he glared back at her with fiery, heartless, green eyes. Strangely familiar green eyes...

No. No way.

A new surge of terror gave Jaina an adrenaline rush and a spark of energy. Focusing all of her remaining strength, she rolled them over so that she was on top of him, and slammed his head into the ground. It was just the break she needed. He loosened up enough for her to jump off of him and reach out for her saber. But her concentration was shot. Fear and disbelief took over her mind. She needed another look at his face! Until she figured out who it was, she couldn't make an attempt on his life, she could only defend herself.

His feelings toward her were obviously on the other end of the spectrum and Jaina's indecision nearly cost her her life. In less than ten seconds, he had gotten to his feet and removed the assassin's dagger from his boot. Her eyes widened with terror as he lunged at her at full speed.

"JACEN!"

That voice was not in his head.

"Jaina!" Jacen screamed back. "Come on, Ani, move it!"

Though she didn't believe it possible, Jaina's position had worsened. Being strangled was one thing. Having your throat slit was another entirely. She was using the Force along with every ounce of strength she possessed to keep this man's knife two inches above her throat. Her grip grew slick with sweat and her hands trembled with the intense struggle. She could feel herself weakening. She had to be mistaken. This had to be a nightmare. In five minutes, she would wake up and everything would be okay.

Just then, she caught sight of Tenel's body again. The side of her fatigues were soaked with blood. Jaina swore she could hear rapid footsteps advancing. But they were coming so slowly. They'd never make it in time.

Who was she kidding? In five minutes, she would be dead...

"JAINA!"

Or not.

Just as she thought she couldn't hold on any longer, the footsteps came like thunder and she could hear lightsabers slashing through the trees. Jaina's confidence surged and she caught sight of Tenel's saber. Concentrating with the Force, she slipped the weapon off Tenel's belt, called it through the air and brought the hilt of it down hard on the back of her attacker's head. Consciousness flickered from his eyes and she rolled from beneath him before his knife could puncture her chest.

Jacen and Anakin emerged through the severed branches two seconds later, followed closely by Luke Skywalker, Tobias, Erik, Slade and Kyp.

Luke quickly surveyed the scene and spoke matter of factly, but it was obvious how hard he had to work to keep his emotions out of the way.

"Anakin, Jacen, get these girls out of here, now. Take them straight to the infirmary; I'll be right there. Kyp, Erik, take care of him." he said pointing to the subdued intruder. "We need to figure out who he is. Slade, Tobias, make sure he was alone. Don't let your guard down for a second."

The boys who had followed Luke split up to search the area. His eyes then fell on Jaina's who was trembling, covered in dirt and bleeding from her shoulder. She was already trying to stand to her feet, but if not for Jacen, she would have fallen again. He caught her as she stumbled backwards. "What are you doing?" he asked, turning her around to face him. "I'm not going to let you walk anywhere." Jacen mumbled, supporting her with an arm around her waist. But she pushed him away before he could pick her up.

"She needs you more than I do." she whispered. She pointed to her left where Tenel lie on the ground, motionless and bleeding. The color drained from Jacen's face as he squeezed her arm and then quickly left her in Anakin's charge. Jaina wanted to burst into tears as Jacen knelt beside Tenel and gently lifted her into his arms.

A few meters away, Kyp and Erik lifted the attackers' comatose body from the ground and carried him toward the infirmary. Jaina's heart burned and her body ached from the laser blast and fierce grip that had been taken on her neck. She couldn't speak. She couldn't move. Fortunately, her seventeen-year old brother chose that moment to slip his arm around her waist and turn her to face him.

Hot, angry, tears burned Anakin's eyes as he surveyed his sister's battered form. Dark bruises were already becoming visible on her neck and her shoulder was burned pretty badly. He could sense her physical pain and her racing mind—but overall, she was in shock, numb.

"Jaya," he murmured, touching her face with one hand. "I 'm so sorry. I can't believe this happened. I wish I could have taken it for you."

Anakin shook his head in disbelief and gently, cautiously, lifted Jaina from the ground, being careful not to irritate her shoulder. The blood in his veins boiled with anger as he started back toward the camp.

Jaina rested her head on her brother's shoulder, dazed. She couldn't feel a thing, but she had never hurt so badly in all her life.

END PART EIGHT


	9. Perfect Strangers: Aftermath

PERFECT STRANGERS: PART IX

Around 1000, Admiral Lockhart stood behind Commander Taurus on the bridge as he searched for Brock. Captain Mycenae entered and approached her, his steps heavier than usual. Lockhart did not turn, for the presence she sensed was not one she wished to address.

Nicolas approached Tristan with as little emotion as possible. "Admiral, may I have a word with you?" he asked quietly.

"I'm busy at the moment, Captain."

"This will only take a second." he continued. "It is of utmost importance."

Taurus turned to Lockhart. "It's okay, Admiral. I can handle the rest of this myself."

Caught, Tristan turned and straightened to face the Captain. Nicolas felt terrible, but was doing a fine job of hiding it. He gestured toward the exit door and without a word, Tristan stormed ahead of him into the empty hallway.

"Nicolas," she began, spinning to face him. "I do not have time for this now. We have business to tend to and our minor personal matters cannot interfere with things of such grand importance."

"Bull shavit." Nicolas growled. "I demand an explanation from you, Tristan--"

Tristan's jaw dropped. "Excuse me!"

"--and we will not leave this corridor until you give me one."

Tristan's eyes widened at the Captain's tone. "How dare you speak to me with such disrespect."

"How dare you refuse to acknowledge my existence." he shot back.

Suddenly, Nicolas felt a hint of pressure on his throat. It took him a moment to realize what was happening. "She wouldn't!" he thought. But she certainly would, and it made him angry. He shook his head, holding her glare.

"Is there no end?" he asked, standing his ground against the pain. She didn't answer.

"There isn't! You would kill me, wouldn't you? Your one true ally and confidant?" The Admiral looked nervous, her plan wasn't working. Nicolas cleared his throat as best he could.

"Never in my life have I been afraid of you, Tristan." he continued. "Not since the day you arrived. So if you think that I am afraid to confront you now, even die by your hand-- then you are gravely mistaken."

Tristan was shocked. Unsure of what to say, she dropped her grip on Nicolas and after a moment, turned to leave.

Nicolas smiled wryly behind her. A victory at last. "So, there is a shred of humanity left in you." he mumbled harshly.

Tristan halted. "Captain, you are on dangerous ground."

"I can understand not mixing business and pleasure," he continued, disregarding her warning. "But this is cruelty! I have served you seven years, Admiral. I deserve to hear the truth--"

"The truth?" she growled, interrupting him. "The truth is, that people make mistakes every day, Nicolas. Mistakes that are learned from and then forgotten."

Nicolas stood, silent and unmoving.

"Now, I beseech you," Tristan continued. "Do just that and go your own way before you make me do something I'm going to regret."

"It seems I already have--" he countered.

Tristan glared at him, out of peaceful ideas. "What do you want from me, Nicolas?" she demanded icily.

"I want you, Tristan." He whispered fervently, grabbing her shoulders. "Don't you understand that? I've always wanted you-- and I've wasted seven years in uncertainty, waiting for some kind of break. I finally caught one-- and so far it's been the worst thing that could have happened."

"You're right, Mycenae." she answered slowly. "It is the worst thing that could have happened. Last night-- was wrong. I was intoxicated. I was so out of it, I didn't even know what was happening! You could've been anyone." The Captain's heart slowed and Tristan jerked out of his grasp.

"I never meant for anything to happen between us, Nicolas, which is why you and I both have to forget everything. We will never be more than crewmates. So though I value your loyalty, I will have no alliances, not with you or anyone else. Hope you enjoyed your one night stand. Good day, Captain."

As she backed away from him, Nicolas sank into frozen despair. His one hope in a dark and solitary universe had been shattered. He felt his heart shudder and die in his chest. The eerie flatline echoed in his ears and the sound grew further and further away as she disappeared from his presence. The stone in his chest grew still and his eyes flashed with anger. Silently, he turned and stormed down the hall surrounded by a dark cloud of bitterness.

"Good day indeed, Tristan Lockhart. Enjoy it, for it will be your last."

(Background: English Dances Mvt. III: Mesto)

In the infirmary, the droids tended to the intruder while Cilghal took care of Tenel and Mara looked after Jaina. Mara didn't know what to say to her niece. Nothing she said could improve the situation. But Jaina didn't mind the silence; she wasn't ready to say anything to anyone. She just sat upright, not speaking, not crying, not moving. Her worst physical injury had been the laser blast to her shoulder, but everything else was relatively minor. There had been no major damage to her windpipe and the bruises would heal soon. However, her emotional injuries were far more severe, and seemingly irreparable.

All things considered, Tenel wasn't hurt terribly either. She had regained consciousness and Cilghal had treated the blast to her side. The worst she had suffered was the shot to her leg. It had severed tendons in her knee, disabling her ability to walk. But using the Force and some old fashioned surgery, Cilghal repaired Tenel's leg and assured her that she would be on her feet in a few days.

Following orders from Cilghal, the medic droids had drugged the attacker and begun analyzing him, running various tests. Then they had left him lying on the exam table across the clinic. Mara went to him after she was done with Jaina and cleaned the blood from his face. Jaina had put up a valiant fight and there was damage to show for it. Mara attempted to be gentle, but honestly she would've cared less if he was dead, much less injured.

Jaina watched her aunt finish with her assailant and return to her husband. Jacen sat beside Tenel, holding her hand and whispering to her, while Anakin remained outside. Luke cursed softly under his breath at the answering service that had picked up when he tried to contact Han and Leia. Cilghal looked over the tests and the droids were also hovering over Tenel. No one was paying attention to her for the time being.

Ignoring every pain in her body, she slid off the bed and made her way quickly to the other end of the clinic, where he laid. That end of the clinic was a little dark, but she could still see relatively well. She approached the table cautiously, fears playing with her mind that he would jump up and grab her again. She looked down at him and traced his face with her finger. She ran her hand across his hair, which she could now see was unmistakably dark blonde, and then quickly jerked back. With a shudder, she covered her mouth with her hands. Everything was exactly the same.

But she'd seen and heard entirely too much about clones and cyborgs to fall for such a trick. Something had to be different. What did Brock have--

The scar. The scar from the glass bottle.

Without thinking, Jaina began to tear his tunic off. The black buttons popped off individually as she ripped the fabric down from his shoulder.

Only then did Luke, Mara and Cilghal notice Jaina. "Jaina!" Luke shouted, dropping the comm. All three sprinted over and Luke used the Force to seize Jaina before he got to her.

But Jaina would not be stopped. She blocked her uncle's power with her own and continued to frantically destroy the tunic. When Luke came up behind her and grabbed her, Jaina elbowed him hard in the stomach and he reeled back.

"Wait," Mara said quietly. "I don't think she's--"

Just as she spoke, Jaina stopped. She put her hand on his chest and leaned across his body. About seven inches long, a thin, curved, scar ran across his left shoulder.

Brock's left shoulder.

Jaina pressed her cheek against Brock's bare chest and listened for a moment. Slowly and steadily, his heart was still beating; a dull echo in a frigid tomb of emptiness. Without another word, Jaina crumbled to her knees and burst into agonizing sobs.

Her nightmare had come true.

END PART NINE


	10. Perfect Strangers: Dark & Light

Author Note: Hey. My apologies for the huge gap in postings. Contrary to popular belief, I did not drop of the face of the universe, nor did I forget Brock & Jaina. Thank you to those still interested in reading; I promise that no matter what, this story WILL be finished before I graduate. (5 months or sooner :) Hopefully this piece will tide you over momentarily. Thanks again! Enjoy!

JadaSkye

PERFECT STRANGERS: Part X

Jaina lie flat on her bed in the room she shared with Tenel Ka. Tenel was stretched out on her own bed, her injured leg surrounded by pillows. Jaina was still in disbelief. It had been nearly two days since it had happened, and two days since she'd even been inside the clinic. Luke had yet to connect the evidence they had found with anyone or anything besides Brock. Slade and Tobias had stayed an hour after the attack and surveyed the entire area where Jaina and Tenel had been hunted. They located the x-wing Brock had traveled to Yavin in and found the pieces of his knife and the huge rifle that had brought Tenel down. Luke confiscated the weapons and after confirming that the pieces contained Brock's fingerprints, he placed them on a shelf under a heavy translucent box.

Han and Leia had arrived late the night of the incident and the entire Solo family together was an emotional overload. Han was furious, feeling that the whole situation was his fault for not forbidding Jaina to see Brock in the first place. Jaina wept profusely in her father's embrace after convincing him not to march straight into the clinic to blow Brock's head off with a blaster rifle. But since then, she had been sober, and barely spoken a word to anyone.

There was so much to believe, and even more to cope with. Jaina was torn. She knew that the man who had attacked her was not the same one she had met in the garage on Coruscant three months earlier-- not the same man she had slowly begun to give her heart to. Something had made him snap. Something had torn him away from her, and it was hatred for that, more than anything else, that stabbed her heart every time her memory replayed the awful sequence.

But in the midst of loathing Brock's elusive captor, Jaina's heart burned with grief and loneliness. No matter who he was, or what he had become, Brock had taken a piece of her heart that could never be returned. Though Jaina tried her hardest to fill the hole with abhorrence for his entire species, she could not. Her anger was overcome by a deep longing for something she could no longer have. And whether she would ever have him again or not, she knew the truth-- and it was harder to accept than any event of the past two days.

"Tenel?" Jaina whispered quietly, staring at the ceiling.

"Yeah?"

Tears slipped out of Jaina's eyes and rolled down her temples into her hair. She sat up slowly and looked across the room at her best friend.

"Jaina, what is it?" Tenel asked worried, and angry that she couldn't move to comfort her friend.

Jaina wiped her eyes and then looked miserably at her injured roommate. "I'm so sorry." she whispered shakily.

"Jaina, we've had this conversation already. How many times do I have to tell you that this isn't your fault!"

"No, no, not about that." she continued. "This is something else. I'm sorry because-- I want to hate him. I want to hate him lying and breaking my heart and for trying to kill us both and—everything. "

"But you still love him."

Jaina's eyes widened. Tenel didn't look upset at all.

"You think I didn't know?" she continued. "Of course I know! You still want him. You still love him."

Jaina was frozen. "How did-- how did you know? And why aren't you angry?"

Tenel smiled at her. "Because I know you, Jay. I know he made you happy." she sighed. "The person who attacked us wasn't Brock, Jaina. That person was manufactured by some lunatic who was out to get you. The man who loves you is somewhere inside that comatose body in the infirmary, and from what you've told me, he's not one to falter in the face of adversity. Something tells me he'll fight his way out of this and come back to you." she paused. "I've seen the way he looks at you, my friend. You haven't lost him yet-- and apparently, he hasn't lost you either."

Jaina fell silent. She leaned back on her pillow and soaked in Tenel's words. He hadn't lost her. And no matter how much she wanted to hate him, she couldn't.

"Stang you, Brock Mitchell." she thought, tears stinging her eyes. "Stang you for kissing my soul and then breaking my heart. And stang you as well, Jaina Solo. For knowing all the while, and letting it happen."

Tristan packed a few items into her travel bag. "If you want something done right," she mumbled. "Never send a man do it." And that, she would never do again. Her latest creation had made it to Yavin IV and then disappeared. And she refused to have victory dangled in front of her face and then snatched away. She would hunt it down and seize it herself. Her fighter awaited her in the hangar of the Artemis. Without so much as another thought about Mycenae, Mitchell or the rest of the galaxy, Tristan set her course to fly straight into and through the heart of Luke Skywalker.

She strapped herself into the cockpit and grinned.

Yes, the end was finally in sight.

Hours later, Jaina trudged across the praxeum grounds to the med center. The day matched her mood, as it was gray, and quite dreary. She entered the clinic and Cilghal looked up from her work.

"Any changes?" Jaina asked.

"I'm afraid not." Cilghal replied with a sad smile.

Jaina sighed. Cilghal walked across the room and patted Jaina's shoulder. "Fear not, my friend." she said soothingly. "I am sure we will find some answers very soon. Will you be alright here alone?"

Jaina nodded. "I'll be fine. Go on, so you don't get caught out in the weather."

Cilghal smiled sadly again, gathered her small satchel and left the med center. A gust of wind blew in as the door closed. Jaina stood silently in the middle of the clinic, a few meters from Brock's bed. He still lay comatose, barely breathing. Jaina slowly walked across the room to him. She looked down at his bruised face and darkened eyes. Just the thought of the flashing emeralds beneath his lids, that had once held her gaze so warmly, and then glared at her so coldly, was enough to make her cry.

"How could you let this happen?" she whispered. "How could you do this to us?" She swiped at angry tears and turned away, furious with herself for losing her heart to such a monster.

Tristan stepped out of her spacecraft onto the surface of the far side of Yavin IV. A gust of wind whipped her smoky brown hair into her face. Vaguely remembering the Academy's layout, she started down a path toward the main temple. Had it really been ten years? It seemed she'd been there more recently...

As she walked, she tried to decide on how she would disguise herself once she reached civilization, but quickly realized that there was no reason for the masquerade. Nearly all of the students were under fifteen or had known Luke for less than five years. No one would recognize her. She grinned increased her pace as the gusty wind pushed her closer to the sound of young voices.

A light rain fell and refreshed the hard-working students of Yavin IV's Jedi praxeum. Tahiri and Anakin had been sparring for a good hour in front of the temple. Taking a break, they deactivated their sabers and soaked up the drizzling rain. Pushing damp, sweaty hair out of his eyes, Anakin turned just in time to see an unfamiliar young woman approaching the main temple. She looked quite lost.

"Excuse me," she called out timidly, halting a few feet in front of him. "Could I trouble you with a question?"

Anakin glanced at Tahiri and shrugged. "It's no trouble. What can I do for you?"

She glanced at the building behind him. "This is-- the Yavin IV Jedi Academy, I presume?"

"Yeah, you found us." he answered. "Are you looking for Luke Skywalker?"

"Oh yes. Is he available?"

"Yeah, usually. Come on, I'll take you. Be right back, Ri." Anakin looked back at the woman and then nodded in the direction of his uncle's whereabouts. "Come on, follow me."

Luke's 'office' door cracked open and his nephew entered, followed by an unfamiliar face with an unfamiliar, somewhat cloudy presence. Luke's guard went up instinctively, but even the Master had not anticipated what was to come.

"Hey, Uncle Luke, got someone here who wants to talk to you. What'd you say your name--"

Suddenly, the door slammed behind them and Anakin was silenced by some invisible force. His eyes flew wide with terror as he gasped for oxygen.

"Thanks, honey, I'll take it from here." she released him and he crumbled to the floor momentarily.

Luke's eyes widened and he stood from his chair. Anakin was alright, but he seemed frozen to the floor.

"Who are you, and what business do you have here?" Luke demanded of the intruder.

Tristan's eyes flew open and devious smile snaked across her face. "Why, Commander Skywalker." she purred. "You haven't changed a bit."

Luke opened his mouth to inquire further, but she interrupted his attempt.

"What's the matter, Luke? Have you forgotten me so quickly? It's only been what-- fifteen years?"

Luke stared hard into the strange woman. This would not be handled quickly. "Anakin, get out of here." he ordered.

"Anakin?" Tristan cooed, holding the young Jedi back. "Baby Anakin? From all those many years ago? My, what a handsome young man you've become!"

Anakin froze, puzzled. "What?"

"Oh, I don't expect you to remember." she turned to glare at Luke. "After all, you were no more than two years old."

Anakin glanced at his uncle, bewildered. Tristan continued, glaring at Luke.

"Fifteen years has found you a wife-- and a family. And me? Well, I've a little family of my own. As for a husband, well-- I had always hoped it would be you."

Luke's memory raced. Those eyes... a raging gray storm.

"Someone got a little anxious though. Too anxious to wait for his true love."

The eyes and the voice fell into place. Luke's mouth nearly fell open.

"Callista!" he gasped.

She snorted. "Callista was a weakling. I am a manifestation of all the power she never dared to seek. I am Admiral Tristan Lockhart, and before we are finished here, you will be begging me for mercy."

All three inhabitants of the room were momentarily frozen in a state of indecision and disbelief. "Anakin, out." Luke commanded gravely.

"Uncle Luke, I won't just leave you alone with--"

"I said out. Do not argue with me, just--"

"Oh, come on, let him stay." Tristan purred, finally igniting her saber. She directed the blade at Luke's chest. "At least one student should witness the destruction of the great Jedi Master Skywalker."

Luke's blood ran cold. Anakin, unsure of what to do, made a small move toward the door and Tristan whipped the weapon around to face him. It was just the break that Luke needed. Quickly he drew his own saber and ignited it inches from Tristan's body.

"Let him go." he warned her gravely.

She smiled, facing him. "Why, so he can run and get help? Really, Luke, I hoped you'd be brave enough to fight me alone."

Luke's eyes narrowed. "Your conflict is with me. Release him."

Tristan's lips curved into a smile. "You're cute when you're serious." she slowly redirected the blade to cross with Luke's. "Run along, Ani."

Anakin didn't wait for her to change her mind. He exited quietly and bolted to find his brother, while the two Jedi, beacons of dark and light, stood crouched to battle.

"Why are you here?" Luke growled. "Why did you come back?"

"To finish the job your niece's boyfriend was too feeble to complete." she shot back. "Plus, I always promised I would return. I keep my promises."

"The validity of your promises expired over ten years ago."

"That's not the point. The point is that I returned. I didn't forget my true love."

"I didn't either," he growled. "I married her."

"You married an ex-Imperial harlot."

"Judging by the shadow that followed you in, I'd say you became one." Luke snapped angrily. Tristan's eyes widened. Luke glared through her. "And if you dare to make another comment about my wife, I will level you right here with no remorse."

"So if you were to level me now, you would have remorse?" she countered. "That's a shame-- because I've been waiting fifteen years to destroy you."

With that, she swung her burgundy blade at the Jedi Master. He blocked her attack and held her sword down, the energy beams crackling at the connection. Luke's anger was quickly overcome by pity for the corrupted creature standing before him. Her life events were similar to Mara's, only reversed. He had loved this woman, and compassion compelled him to appeal to the sliver of light she had left inside.

"Don't do this, Callista." he warned. "You've forgotten yourself. You don't have to go on like this. Come on, let me help you."

"Cut the sympathy act, Skywalker." she snarled. "Your pacifism isn't doing a thing but wasting your oxygen, and you're going to need every bit of it to show me a decent fight."

She struck him again and he blocked her swing with his green-white blade.

"I don't want to fight you, Callista." he pressed, locking their blades at a standstill.

Angrily, Tristan broke the stalemate and hacked at her former lover, grazing his shoulder. He recoiled slightly, startled by the sting of her attack. His fingers brushed the severed sleeve of his tunic and Admiral Lockhart glared into him.

"You forget you aren't fighting Callista." she growled. "She's been dead for years."

Suddenly the room became frighteningly cold and the strong presence of evil sent a chill down Luke's spine. Callista's life force had been replaced by a frigid spirit, fueled by vengeance and pride. She had lost her last battle with the Dark Side. She was truly gone. Quickly, a sense of duty overcame his sympathy for the Imperial Admiral. His eyes narrowed and he reassumed his stance.

"Then you force me to avenge her murder."

Tristan barely heard his response before she attacked him again. Blow after blow, the energy blades crashed together, singeing furniture and driving the Jedi from one side of the room to the other. Tristan had the upper hand, for her combat skills combined with her surprise psychological attack had caught the Jedi Master off guard. But Luke was invariably strong under ill conditions, and defended himself and his domain almost effortlessly.

But the battle of light versus dark proved too strong and too hazardous for the office. Several pieces of furniture were slashed and burned before Luke managed to knock Tristan's saber from her grasp. But she summoned her powers without her sword and charged at Luke, driving both Jedi through the office's right side window and into the drizzling rain.

Luke quickly rolled over a few times before getting back on his feet and calling his saber to his hand. He was covered in mud and glass, and blood dripped from a gash on his cheek. His eyes fell on Tristan; she was equally injured, but her dark powers drove her to her feet. She assumed a fighting stance and ignited her saber. Only then did Luke notice the crowd, including Mara, that had gathered in the main courtyard, despite the rain. Tristan glanced at them and suppressed a grin. Perfect.

Mara broke through the students and advanced toward her husband, saber in hand. But as her magenta blade extended, Luke held up a hand and met his wife's eyes.

"Stay back, Mara." he ordered soberly.

"Excuse me!" she snapped, in disbelief.

"I know what you're thinking, love, but please trust me." he answered gravely. "This is something I have to handle myself."

An understanding passed between the pair, and after a moment, with painful reluctance, Mara deactivated her weapon and retreated, her eyes focused on the dark woman opposing her husband.

Luke knew what it had taken for Mara to withdraw herself and mentally kissed her. "Please keep everyone back." he added solemnly. "This is a personal matter."

END PART TEN


	11. Perfect Strangers: Waking Up

PERFECT STRANGERS: PART XI

Light.

Ouch. Harsh light.

As Brock's newborn eyes fluttered open, the fuzzy images of machinery and buzz of electronics sharpened in his eyes and ears. When had he fallen asleep? He thought back as far as he could... x-wing... white room... metal bed... the whir of machinery... and needles?

_"Wipe them out. All of them."_

"What?" he whispered, but his voice felt weak; he could barely hear himself. "Is this a dream?" He let his eyes fall shut again, welcoming the darkness that surrounded him, but was quickly jarred from the calm by a sharp vision. His own scream echoed in his ears as a needle was shoved in his neck. Four faces, watching, smiling at his anguish, laughing at the cold metal cuffs that bound him to that bed, his prison.

"No... no! Please, stop!" he moaned.

_"All of them."_

Brock's eyes flew open, but she was still there, her eyes cold and indifferent.

_"Inside your mind, where you can't escape me."_

Brock swore he could feel his thoughts and reasoning slowing down, changing, transforming. He couldn't think. His mind was no longer his own.

_"One of us now."_

_What? I don't know who-- who am I!_

_"Sweet revenge is yours at last."_

_No! Who are you?_

_"I am your mind, Brock Mitchell."_

_What! This can't be--_

_"You belong to me."_

_No!_ Brock sat bolt upright in bed, but before he could blink the vision out of existence, he slumped back down with a groan. _"Too fast, too fast!" _his nerves bellowed. Suddenly, the vision had disappeared and he was awake, his entire body screaming in agony. He felt like he'd been electrocuted and he was pretty sure his head had been trampled by several herds of angry banthas. As he brought his hands to his face, they too expressed their displeasure at having to move. He hurt bad enough to cry, but he figured that would be painful too, so he didn't. Where was everyone? Why had he been abandoned in wretched misery? His own voice echoed in his ears again.

"Where am I?"

Jaina spun around to see Brock trembling on his bed. Her mouth fell open in slight fear and disbelief. "He's awake." She walked slowly across the room to one of the machines and administered a dose of painkillers, which began to work immediately. Part of her wanted him to experience a little of the pain she'd been going through, but his pain was so strong, it was making her hurt. Even after she had drugged him again, he didn't speak, didn't move. He just lay there with his eyes closed, breathing heavily.

"Brock?"

The name hung in the air for a moment. The way she said it. Not harsh like in his vision. It was sweet, like a song-- a sad song. Finally, a connection was made.

"Brock-- Arren Mitchell. Twenty-three years old. Captain of Echo squadron." His eyes fluttered open. "Brock-- is me. Who said--"

And there she was.

"Jaina." he whispered. His body still ached, but the sight of her put his soul at rest. She was so beautiful. An angel. A new flood of memories came rushing back. Sweet memories. Her face had been the last thing on his mind before he had fallen asleep. But why was she so sad now? They were here together, in this place full of light and-- oh no.

"Am I dead?" he asked as she approached his bed.

"No, you aren't dead." Jaina said eyeing him, warily. "We thought you might have been, but obviously you aren't."

"Then where am I?"

Jaina looked at him in disbelief. "You don't remember?"

"No. I mean-- everything is fuzzy. I don't know what's real and what's--"

"You're on Yavin IV in the infirmary!" Jaina wailed. She threw her hands in the air. "How can you not remember, Brock!"

"Jaina, are you going to cry?" he asked softly.

Jaina shook her head. He didn't remember. "Don't you know who sent you here!" she continued in a shocked whisper. "Don't you know why I look like this! Don't you know why your face hurts so bad! It's all your fault!" she shuddered, pushing back tears. "It's all your fault because you came here with that!"

Brock followed her accusing finger to a shelf across the room. Inside a clear case lay a long deadly blaster rifle and a dagger. Both of which looked all too familiar.

Suddenly, with a new rush of pain and confusion, vivid memories swept over his mind and his whole demeanor changed. Brock suddenly remembered select details about his life as if they had just happened. The day he met Jaina, the night at Astraglo, the banquet, his deal with Jacen, his fight with Jaina, the apologies, the kiss and the battle that brought him into space and launched him on the path to Yavin. He began rambling off events to see if he could trace a path to his current position.

"Right before you came here," he began. "I got double teamed... I was at your place, remember?"

Jaina nodded. "That was a long time ago."

"After you left, I was flying like crazy, all the time. No really big jobs though. Then we got news of this one disturbance and they told us we had to go right then... I hadn't talked to you in four days, and I missed you really bad." That caught Jaina's attention. She slowly turned to face him.

"So after we won the fight, I decided to visit, since we were close to Yavin."

"Then what?" Jaina pushed. Brock continued, not making eye contact with her. "I never made it." he paused. "A-- tractor beam! I got caught in the tractor beam. It pulled me into this all white room-- and when I got out of my x-wing to see if there was a way out, they drugged me. They had to. It was invisible and it came out of pipes in the ceiling! That's where the vision started! All four of them. They got me."

"What?" Jaina asked exasperated. "You're not making any sense. Who got you?"

Brock didn't even hear her. "She got in my head-- "into my head so I couldn't escape." She said she was my mind. She said I was one of them."

"She who?"

Just then, the first of many strange and vivid flashbacks jarred Brock's thinking.

_Swung the blaster rifle from his shoulder... hands trembled as he ran them over the slick, high powered weapon... screaming and running in terror at the very sight of him... sneak in... destroy everyone... everything in sight..._

"She gave me that!" Brock exclaimed pointing at the rifle. He sat up slowly, still in a bit of pain. "She gave me that gun..." He trailed off, for that was the part where everything stopped making sense. He closed his eyes, thinking hard. "Destruction?" he whispered softly. "Destroy who?"

_"JEDI!"_ a voice roared.

Brock's eyes flew open. "What?"

"What? What is it?" Jaina asked anxiously.

_"The Jedi Order must be destroyed!"_

"No!" Brock screamed. "Gods, what is going on? Who are you?" He squeezed his eyes shut clutching his head between his hands. "Go away!"

"What is it, Brock?" Jaina asked. "Who are you talking to?"

"I don't know…" he sputtered.

_Into the foliage, waiting... Whatever it was wouldn't be around long enough to tell anyone about him... spotted it, flying through the trees... no threat to him. Nothing was... leveled his rifle... fired twice... his victim tumbled to the ground._

"Oh no," Brock moaned. He turned to Jaina. "Oh gods, what happened? What did I do?" Jaina didn't speak a word. She just stood there glaring at him. He stared back at her, the terror of that moment playing back in her eyes, in his mind. He reached into his memory for details. So dim, so shallow, so--

Bright.

Bright red-gold tresses flying to the ground behind his fallen prey.

"Tenel." he breathed. "I didn't--" he glanced back at Jaina for reassurance. She didn't even look at him. Brock recoiled. "I can't believe this. I shot her! What happened! She can't be dead."

"No, she's not dead." Jaina growled. "Just-- disabled."

Brock sighed, relieved. But all too quickly, he was seized by another disturbing flashback.

_The girl was close to the camp... and if she made it all the way... ruined... easier now to take her down himself._

"Oh no. There were more?" Brock mumbled in disbelief.

_Upon her... his strong, cold hands encircling her neck... cutting off her air supply..._

He stared at Jaina until she turned around. Her large brandy brown eyes were wide with severe mistrust and red with tears. That fear looked too familiar. Too recent. The perspective had switched. He could no longer see the struggle on Jaina's face-- now he was in her place.

_Glared up at him as menacingly as possible... got a good look at his face... short, wild hair... fiery, heartless..._

Brock stared hard into cruel and vicious eyes.

_Strangely familiar green eyes..._

"NO!"

That lone syllable echoed through the infirmary. Jaina stood frozen in fear and Brock's visions shut off, as if someone had cut the cable to his memories. He didn't believe it. It was too awful, too unbelievable. He sucked air into his lungs and threw back the covers of his bed. Ignoring the pain in his chest, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and looked at his hands. Hands that had nearly cut Jaina's life short. He stumbled out of the bed, mad thoughts blurring his vision. He made a move toward Jaina, but she recoiled as if he were a poisonous animal.

_"She hates you now. She's afraid of you."_

Brock cringed covering his ears. "I know!" he mumbled. "I know! Just shut up whoever you are! This is all your fault!" Brock couldn't stand it. He collapsed on the floor at Jaina's feet. After a moment, he sat up on his knees. His shoulders sagged and his head was bowed, contrite tears dampening the clinic floor.

"Please," he begged, his voice stifled with sorrow. "Just kill me. Destroy me and this voice within me that made me hurt you. Any way you want. I deserve nothing less."

END PART ELEVEN


	12. Perfect Strangers: Small Victories

PERFECT STRANGERS: PART XII

A tremendous battle of dark and light raged just outside the clinic. Luke and Tristan parried and jabbed at each other until both grew exhausted. The mud puddles were becoming deeper and slimier and Tristan was beginning to regret the length of her thick brown mane.

Luke however, was in a much better place. An excellent combatant under pressure, he put on quite a show for his wife and students. He was much stronger than Tristan remembered and had quickly gained the upper hand.

As his power drove Tristan further into the forest, she began to recognize the path they were on. She realized that though she had not been to Yavin in years, she knew every curve of the path behind her and even the placement of the trees. In her fatigue, she tried not to become distracted, but the familiarity of her surroundings was frighteningly surreal, and she began to lose her concentration. Deeper into the forest, she could see more buildings; cabins, the mess hall, the clinic.

Suddenly, a loud clap of thunder sounded and lightning illuminated the forest. Luke and Tristan both jumped, startled by the volume of the storm.

But nothing could compare to the sobering moment when Tristan realized she was in the midsts of her dreams, or rather, her nightmares. The forest, the lightning, the rain, everything was the same.

But the stronger power-- the ultimate distraction that always caused her to lose the fight and be cut down by the green lightning-- which had to be Luke's saber-- where was it? And if she knew it was coming, could she not avoid it? Her mind raced. Would it be him? The light Force? Or something greater that she could not anticipate? Just then, another low rumble of thunder sounded and distant lightning flickered over the clinic. As the thunder grew louder, Tristan became distracted just long enough to catch a glimpse of her estranged fighter pilot in the clinic window, on the floor and only paces away from Jaina Solo.

"What?" Jaina asked incredulously, in a low whisper.

"I betrayed you, Jaina. I hurt you. I almost killed you..." He lowered his arms and raised his eyes to hers. "I can't live with that."

Jaina stared at Brock's crumbled form. He was completely vulnerable. No weapons, no strength, he wasn't even wearing a shirt, since she had torn it off of him two days before.

"Why should I kill you?" she asked shakily, taking the saber from her belt.

Brock shook his head. "Aside from the obvious... you—you were all I had, Jaina." he mumbled. "You were the best thing that could have happened to me. If I've lost you-- I've lost everything."

Jaina's heart wrenched as she turned her lightsaber over in her hand.

"Brock, I've already watched you die," she mumbled, stumbling over her words. "I've been staring at you dead on that table for days. I watched another part of you die when you realized what you did to me. It almost hurt more than the first time -- and get off the floor. I'm not gonna kill you."

Brock stared up at her in disbelief.

"Get up." she demanded again. He did so slowly, and though she was calm, the physical barrier between them was so strong that Brock could feel it, and chose not to advance toward her. Jaina was silent, anxious, gathering her thoughts. She swallowed hard and used every ounce of strength she had to maintain her composure. She knew it wouldn't last long.

"Brock--" she began slowly. "You came into my life so unexpectedly. I know we've fought and misunderstood each other—but I can honestly say I have never experienced anything as frightening as being attacked by a man I thought I was falling for. I can't believe--" her voice cracked and she fell silent for a moment. She recovered somewhat and looked at him again. His heart crumbled, breaking all over again with every word she spoke.

"I just—I don't know what to do, Brock. I missed you so much over the past month— all I could think about was being with you-- and now everything's changed. I've never even felt uncomfortable around you—but now, I'm almost afraid of you! I feel like I don't know you at all. And I mean, you don't even remember—what you-- what you—"

Her voice cracked again, and this time when she tried to regain it, she lost it entirely. She turned her back to him and trembled with silent sobs. Brock couldn't stand it. Disregarding the invisible wall between them, he stumbled over to embrace her.

"Jaina." he whispered. "Jaina, I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I would never, ever hurt you on purpose." Jaina shook her head, unable to speak and fell limp in his arms, burying her face in his chest for a long moment. Stroking her hair, her whispered, "Gods, I don't even know what else to say." He squeezed his eyes shut. "I'm so sorry."

It felt so good to be against him that Jaina almost forgot herself. But she pushed him away abruptly.

"I'm sorry too, Brock," she sniffed, forcing away her brokenness and letting her angry disappointment shine through. "Because I really don't know how this can work anymore. I don't know how to forgive you." She turned away, swiping tears from her eyes and walking toward the couch.

Brock felt like he'd been shot.

"Of course you don't." he mumbled, clenching his fist, furious at his inability to redeem himself. "Hell, why should you? Why should anybody?" He picked up the nearest thing, which happened to be the datapad on the end of his bed, and hurled it across the clinic. Jaina jumped as it smashed against the wall on the other side. She had half a mind to reprimand him, but before she could speak, Brock collapsed to his knees on the floor.

"I wish I had some answers, Jaina." he moaned, fatigued by his physical and emotional exhaustion. "I wish I could fix everything, but-- I don't even know how I got here, or what possessed me to--" he cut his sentence off, as it was too awful to speak of. He glanced up at Jaina's body, observing the dark bruises on her neck and arms and the look in her eyes. The wounds would heal, but her dark memories of him would never be forgotten. Overwhelmed, he crumbled under the weight of evil that could not be undone.

Jaina stood idle at first, watching him weep bitterly, unsure of what to do. But almost immediately, something inside of her began to hurt for him. Despite everything that had happened, there was an innocence about him. Something about his tone and actions made her sympathetic. She knew the attack had been premeditated, but she also knew that he'd had nothing to do with it. She also knew that the assault had been drug-induced-- but the image of Brock racing toward her with that dagger was forever etched in her memory. To see that same face, now drowning in remorse for his actions, was strange and unbelievable.

Even so, she cautiously moved toward him and stroked his hair. He was bawling silently. Tears sprang to Jaina's eyes as well.

"Oh, Brock..."

Sensing her touch, he rose slightly and clung to her, cautiously at first, but then with all the intensity of a frightened child, his face buried in her abdomen. Jaina held him there a moment, feeling his pain and deep despair. Her tears fell on his tousled hair. "Get up," she finally urged him. "Please get up."

Brock slowly got to his feet. He swiped the moisture from his face hastily and then noticed Jaina's tears. "Oh gods, c'mere, babe." he whispered softly, brushing hers away.

While Brock thought nothing of it, Jaina glanced up at him, surprised and flattered at the pet name.

"I'm sorry," he whispered again, stroking her face. The strength had returned to his voice. "I didn't mean to break down like that."

"I can't stand you crying," she whispered back.

"I apologize. I won't make you cry anymore."

Jaina gazed up into Brock's brilliant green eyes. She was still a little afraid, but she felt surprisingly comforted by his touch. She'd missed him so badly, but she didn't quite know how to verbally forgive him and start over.

She didn't have to time to think about it either, because Brock interrupted her thoughts with his voice.

"Jaina--" he began, a bit anxiously. "I-I know that this isn't going to be enough, and I also know that there's a good chance you'll reject me, but-- I'm sorry. I am completely, eternally, sorry, and I beg your forgiveness with all of my being."

Jaina was silent, unsure of how to respond. Some part of her clung to skepticism, but keeping her distance felt so wrong. He needed her forgiveness—and she needed him.

"I believe that you're sorry," she finally answered shakily. "And I want to forgive you-- but how can I trust you?"

Brock's eyebrows raised a bit in disbelief. He hadn't expected her to be so willing so quickly. Nonetheless, he gathered himself and spoke again, the quiver in his voice slowly fading.

"Listen Jaina,-- the only reason I came here in the first place is because I couldn't sit around on Coruscant any longer wondering whether or not you know how I really feel about you. My original plan was to come here and not leave until I'd told you everything--"

"That sounds good to me." She interrupted.

Brock paused and ran a hand through his hair. Then taking a deep breath, he took both of Jaina's hands in his own.

"The truth is this, Jaina-- I would take my own life-- before I ever thought to make another attempt on yours."

"Brock, you don't--"

"No listen," he paused, squeezing her fingers. "Being around you makes me better. I've never felt more alive than I have in the minutes I've spent with you. Even roaring through deep space in the height of battle fails to give me the kind of high I get from being in your presence for ten minutes. You are my spark, Jaina. I need you."

Jaina felt every beat of her heart magnified and fierce electricity coursed through her body in every point of contact she'd had with Brock. He touched her face and pushed a strand of dark hair behind her ear. Every trace of sorrow and defeat had disappeared from his voice.

"Look, I know I'm nothing. I know I'm not rich, not noble and probably not anything else your family imagined you spending time with. I'm just a roughneck starpilot… a regular guy who accidentally let his guard down and started falling for the most intriguingly beautiful girl in the galaxy."

Jaina's heart fluttered.

He paused and sighed, shaking his head with desperate honesty. "I don't just want your forgiveness, Jaina. I want you. I want to see you every day and be your escort to boring parties. I want to dance with you and race fighters with you. Gods, I want to hold your hand in public and kiss you! And—"

"Then what are you waiting for?"

Brock's brain to a moment to catch up, but after a very short, contemplative pause, he realized that he didn't have an answer to her question. Without thinking about it for another second, he grabbed Jaina around the waist with his right arm, pulled her against him and met her lips in a fierce kiss.

Jaina had never been more pleased about making a rash decision. Her decision to destroy Brock's tunic days earlier was now paying off exponentially. Her hands slid down from his face over his chest, where she could feel his heart racing. His muscles tensed as her fingertips tickled his stomach and relaxed as she slid her hands back up over his arms and through the short hair at the back of his neck. He was extremely well-built, and now that she was in his embrace, she wondered how she'd kept away from his lips for so long.

Brock was didn't realize what a vast amount of tension could build up over four months, but to release it all in about four minutes was exhausting. Jaina's kiss was electric and the feel of her toned body and soft skin beneath his fingertips was driving him slowly out of his mind. Everything about this woman was seemingly perfect; every smooth line and curve of her face and body was more phenomenal than he'd imagined and the feeling of her against him was more spectacular than any fantasy he had ever entertained. He cherished the sweetness of her lips, the silk of her skin, and the soft, and every breath of oxygen he shared with her. He traced his fingers over her shoulders and let his hands drift down to the edge of weapon belt at the small of her back. He had desired her for so long, and now that he could feel how badly she wanted him in return, he could hardly pause to breathe.

As he gently and momentarily released her, she looked up into his sparkling eyes. He sighed and pulled her close against his chest.

"Was it as you imagined, my lady?" he growled, brushing her earlobe with his lips.

Jaina shivered. "It was alright." She barely glimpsed his indignant face as she added. "But you know, practice makes perfect…"

Jaina could've melted as his charming grin became a second fiery kiss. He was so gentle and deliberate; Jaina could hardly believe that the man who had tried to stab her a few days ago was now letting his lips drift over all of the bruises on her neck. His body was strong, but his touch was sweet and soft, as if he thought she might break. She felt the need to reassure him that she was not nearly so fragile. She slipped her fingers through his two front belt loops and pulled him toward the couch by the window. Taking her hint, and fighting a giddy smile, Brock followed her down onto the couch.

END PART TWELVE


	13. Perfect Strangers: Love & War

PERFECT STRANGERS: PART XIII

Tristan lie bruised, burned and bleeding against one of the larger trees in Yavin's forest. Identical to her dreams, Luke Skywalker's green lightning was frozen three inches from her face and tears were beginning to burn her eyes. She felt like a lost child, alone in a nightmare she could not awaken from. She was through being brave for the moment. Perhaps an innocent act would strike sympathy in Skywalker's heart. Maybe even sympathy enough to get her off of Yavin IV alive.

Luke stood over Tristan, breathing heavily.

"I should kill you," he said quietly over the rumble of the storm. "I should destroy you, so that you can never threaten me or my family again." Tristan made eye contact with her conqueror and then for the first time in years, her fear got the best of her.

"Perhaps you should, Master Jedi." she cowered. "Perhaps you should, for I have done some great evil in coming here. Evil I will live to regret-- should I live past this moment."

Luke eyed her, slightly bewildered. He touched her mind, surprised to find that she was genuinely terrified. He couldn't imagine what had left her in such a state, but he felt pity for her. Not quite enough to let her go, but enough not to kill her.

He didn't respond to her statement, but he called Mara to his side. Tristan watched as he handed her the burgundy saber. "Take the crystal out," he said, his eyes never leaving Tristan. Mara took the saber and ejected the crystal. Tristan couldn't bear to watch. Luke then took the piece of metal and used the Force stretch the saber out—and then wrapped it around Tristan's wrists. He stood her up and then beckoned his wife to follow them into the forest.

Only about seventy five meters from Callista's ship, the trio marched in the rain, with the Admiral in front. Luke held her at lightsaberpoint until they reached the door of the ship. There, he bound her feet and her mouth and levitated her inside the tri-fighter. Mara slipped a tracking device onto the back of the ship and then watched from the ground as her husband locked the ship's controls on autopilot, and fried the weapon/defense systems with his lightsaber. Finally, Luke put his blade to Tristan's throat.

"You will never find such mercy here again, Callista." Luke growled into her tired eyes. "You have been warned. Now leave this place-- with the understanding that if I ever see you alive again, you can be sure it will be the last time."

With that, Luke locked the canopy and launched the ship, feeling a slight sense of dread as he did so. He watched until the spacecraft disappeared from view, realizing that he might have to make good on his promise sooner than he wished. Finally, he deactivated his saber and soon after, felt Mara's arm slide around his waist. He turned to meet her concerned emerald eyes and fell into her embrace, pulling back at last with a weary smile.

"You've still got it, Skywalker." she grinned.

Luke rolled his eyes, still concerned. "I wish I didn't have to use it."

"I'm not talking about your combat technique," she teased. "I meant your-- 'social' skills." Luke ran his fingers through his damp hair and looked at her questioningly.

"I don't know what it is," she continued. "But for some reason, vengeful Jedi-slayer women are wildly attracted to you."

Luke smiled wryly and kissed her. "One is plenty for me." he answered. "C'mon let's get everyone inside and cleaned up. We need to watch where that ship is headed."

Jacen raced toward the infirmary to find his sister who had missed the whole ordeal. He couldn't believe what had just happened or what was about to happen. He could hardly keep an excited smile from his face as he burst into the infirmary.

"Jaina! You're not going to believe-- whoa, geez."

Jaina nearly bit through Brock's lip at the sound of her brother's voice. Jacen froze, mortified, at the door of the clinic as he watched Brock and his sister sit up from the couch. Jaina quickly smoothed her hair down and if looks could kill, Brock would have been found guilty of murder.

"Dude, I am so sorry. I had no idea you were--"

"Well, since you're here and we're no longer busy, what do you need?" Jaina interrupted angrily.

Jacen eyes were glued to the clinic floor. "Well uh-- I wouldn't have come unless it was really important," he began awkwardly. "And I'm eternally sorry, because I didn't want to see that any more than you wanted me to-- but I just thought you should know that we're about be attacked by Brock's evil twin's master, who just happens to be Uncle Luke's ex girlfriend."

"What?" Jaina gasped. "You mean--"

"Callista. Exactly. She almost killed Anakin and she and Uncle Luke just had this huge fight right in the middle of the-- you know, we don't really have time for this. I'll tell you on the way to the comm post. We should really go now. I think they're ready to attack us from the sky."

Brock shook his head. "You're so lucky this is important."

Jacen stepped outside to wait. As Brock stood up from pulling his boots on, Jaina pulled his lips against hers for a short moment. As she released him, Brock opened his eyes with a disappointed smile. Jaina smiled sadly back. "Can you believe this?" she whispered.

"I'm going to kill your brother," he growled back, resting his forehead against hers.

"I know," she smiled. "I'm going to help you. But I guess-- we've waited this long. What's a few more hours?"

"Eternity." he mumbled.

"I'm trying to be positive!" she giggled. He kissed her again, and upon release, she answered, "Hopefully eternity will pass quickly, but no matter what-- you aren't leaving until I'm finished with you."

Brock grinned happily and claimed her lips again.

Moments later, the couple met Jacen outside the infirmary and the trio raced through the drizzling rain to meet the others. They reached the comm post soaking wet and Jacen blew through the door first. "Look what I found." he announced.

Brock and Jaina emerged just behind him, hand in hand. Brock was suddenly very intimidated without his shirt, facing several bewildered Jedi students and Jaina's entire extended family, including her father.

"Brock?" Luke exclaimed, surprised that the shadow surrounding the young pilot's life force had vanished. "What are doing here? Shouldn't you be--"

"It's okay, Uncle Luke, everything's fine." Jaina interrupted, taking Brock's arm. "He's alright, I promise."

There was no time to question her judgment, but Han Solo did not look the least bit happy to see Brock Mitchell. Brock quickly picked up on his attitude and steered clear of Jaina's father. He walked over to where Luke and Mara were monitoring Tristan's location. The couple moved aside as he peered between them to look at the ship.

Studying the screen, Brock realized that since he had never exactly landed on Yavin, there had been no confirmation of his arrival. Echo squad and Captain Antilles must have realized he was missing, and if it had only been three days-- somebody was still out looking for him. Brock pointed to Tristan's location on the screen. "She's heading back to her ship?" Luke nodded.

Brock paused. "Then we're going to need a little help from above, right?"

Luke nodded again. "Any ideas?"

"Maybe." Brock answered. "Did you radio Coruscant after I arrived here?"

Luke thought for a moment. "No. They have no idea you're here."

Brock's eyes brightened. "Can I use your transmitter?"

Luke brought the pilot over to the holovid and watched his fingers fly over various keys, searching for the right frequency.

"Echo squad, this is Echo leader. Do you copy? Repeat, this is Echo leader. Anybody still out there lookin' for me?" he paused.

Silence.

"Echo two, echo three, echo five, this is echo leader, do you read me? Sal? Zane? Lucky? Anybody there?" Brock paused to listen. More silence. He continued his efforts for several more minutes, only to be disappointed. The others in the room continued to mill around the room and monitor the heavens. Jaina made her way to Brock's side and slipped her arm around his waist. He jumped slightly at her touch and then turned his head to meet her eyes. She met his surprised smile with a grin.

"Any luck?"

"Not yet."

Slightly distracted by her fingertips tickling his bare stomach, he continued searching space for some trace of the Echoes. He finally locked into a garbled frequency.

"Elka fog-- these rascen forenschnipe." the transmitter crackled.

"Hello? Echo five, echo two, echo three, this is echo leader do you read me? Repeat, this is echo leader! Do you copy?"

Static crackled, but through the sizzle, Brock heard, "Roger. This is Echo five of the New Republic. Do you copy?"

"Sweet!" Brock cried. "He's still out there! Sali? Sal, it's me, Brock!"

"Mitchie!" the surprised voice answered. "Stars, where the hell are you? We thought you were dead! Snatched by pirates or something."

"I'm on Yavin IV, finally."

"What? How long have you been there? Why didn't you call us! Man, Captain A's gonna kill you!"

"I know, I know! But listen, Sal, I don't have time to explain this now." Brock paused. A crowd began to form around him as he spoke to Jeremy. "The Academy is in trouble."

"What's up?"

"Those TIE's from a few days ago, they're from a Star Destroyer. A whole fleet of them is ready to attack us."

Jeremy cursed under his breath. "Okay, what do you want, Mitch?"

"You have to get the whole squad to Yavin now." he stated gravely. "Get the guys ready for a fight-- I'll meet you in the air."

Jeremy gave a low whistle. "Okay, Mitchell. We'll be there in a second."

FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER...

Jaina stood beside Brock's x-wing as he readied it for take off. She paced back and forth, looking up at him on the ladder. He turned around and caught her eye. She smiled at him, but her concern for his well-being was obvious on her face. Brock descended the ladder and walked over to Jaina, taking her hands in his own.

"Brock, don't go." she pleaded. "You're not completely sober yet. Going up there is suicide, and there are plenty of other--"

For the third time in her life, Jaina was interrupted by Brock's lips. He pulled away and smiled.

"Babe, this is something I have to do. It's the only way I can redeem myself." He let his fingers brush her cheek. "I'll be fine, I promise. You know I do this every day. It'll be just like practice."

"Except that they want you dead!"

Brock slid his arm around her waist. "They can't kill me now, I have too much to live for." He grinned and tickled her chin with his finger. "I promise I'll be right back."

"Yeah, you better come back." Jaina grabbed Brock by his coveralls and pulled him closer. "I won't lose you again."

"That's right. You won't." he whispered. "The moment the last fighter blows, I'm coming straight back home to you."

Jaina grew quiet. She wanted to believe him, but her eyes reflected her anxious skepticism. She had seen too many boastful, pre-battle promises go awry.

Brock couldn't take his eyes from her face. In the next moment, something inside of him started to ache. He too had heard numerous stories of pilots making and breaking promises to return home from battle. He couldn't bear to imagine what would happen if he didn't make it back down. Jaina slid her arms around him again and he held her, unsure of what to say to reassure her. But when the words came to him, they seemed the most natural speech he had ever uttered.

Pulling her as close as possible, he gently kissed her forehead.

"I love you, Jaina."

Jaina's first instinct was to freak out, but she fought it successfully.

Her second instinct was disbelief. She succumbed to it until she raised her head, saw his eyes and realized there was no need to ask whether he'd truly meant what he'd said. Jaina's eyes misted as she pulled his lips down against hers. When they finally parted, she brushed her hand over his strong jawline.

"I love you too."

Brock's eyes widened briefly and a smile played with his lips.

"Really?"

Jaina grinned. "Yeah, really. Definitely."

She smiled and he grinned back, his heart and insides screaming with excited disbelief. He felt invincible.

"But I'd love you best in one piece." She added, grabbing his helmet off of the ground and handing it to him. "Please be careful—come home to me."

Brock grinned. "I will. I promise." He pulled Jaina close again and sealed his vow with one last generous kiss. After a moment, Jaina pulled away from him. She took Brock's helmet from his hands and placed it on his head.

"To be continued." She said smiling. "Now hurry up and get out of here-- so you can come back."

END PART THIRTEEN


	14. Perfect Strangers: The Battle

PERFECT STRANGERS: PART XIII

Dedicated to Adam Kirby for helping me with my one and only battle scene. 

Still on a high from his exchange with Jaina's, Brock ascended into the atmosphere. But by the time he reached the edge of the planet, battle was already raging. Brock flew in immediately and sniped a TIE off Jeremy's tail. Brock grinned at his best friend's exclamation over the comm.

"Stang, it's good to see you, Mitch!"

"It's great to see you guys too. Echo One is back online!" The squad responded with a war cry. Brock grinned at their enthusiasm and scanned the horizon.

"You guys handle the pack—" he finished. "But I've got a personal vendetta with the leader."

Nicolas gazed at the starlines from a corner of the deck. They were racing toward destiny. TIE fighters were hovering above Yavin, perhaps fighting already, and the Artemis crew was on their way to finish the job. Nicolas took a deep breath as Taurus announced that they were dropping out of hyperspace. He knew that there was no way out of this fight alive. But strangely enough, panic gave way to an emotion that he had not felt in seven years. A shadow of peace shrouded him and flooded his entire being. He walked steadily toward the main deck of the bridge.

Brock relaxed his left hand as his lasers zeroed in on Tristan's tri-fighter. He could not risk letting her escape. The smaller and more agile fighter gave Brock the fight of his life. Every shot he took found only the cold vacuum of space as home. It was like she knew where he was going to fire before he did. Still, he pursued her while keeping a listening ear on the rest of his squad.

Suddenly, the unmistakable wedge shape of the Artemis dropped out of hyperspace with lasers firing. Brock rolled to avoid the majority of the flack, but kept a watchful eye on his target. But the moment he swung his ship around to chase her again, Tristan's fighter exploded in a brilliant flash of light.

The crew of the Artemis was in an uproar and Nicolas' eyes shined in the blaze that was now Tristan's fighter. Moments ago she had been the greatest Admiral in the history of the Artemis. Now she was gone; engulfed in a storm of focused coherent light. Nicolas' reverie had been broken by Taurus' fist smashing into his face. Two other commanding officers dragged him to a chair on the deck and bound his hands and feet. If they survived this fight, he would be spaced shortly after. But Nicolas relaxed; it was all over. She was gone.

Brock gasped, stunned and slightly disappointed. "That was my shot!" he cursed under his breath.

"Mitchie, you alright?" Lucy cut in over his comm.

"That Destroyer just blew their own Admiral, Luce. She's gone!"

"You're kidding!"

" No! That shot was mine—and they're gonna pay with their lives."

"Mitch, are you crazy! They'll kill you!"

"I know what I'm doin', Lucy." he answered, whipping his ship around and charging back into the fight.

As he dodged other fighters, Brock realized that the best counterattack would be to graze the bottom of the ship in an effort to pull all of the fire back toward the Destroyer. At such a close range the targeting computers in the gunners' helmets shouldn't work, which would buy Brock some time to work on a way out of the fatal situation.

Brock aimed the nose of his ship directly at the Artemis. His training took control as the bow of the Destroyer zipped past. In one move, he swung his fighter parallel with the Destroyer.

Punching the throttle to full, he zipped past countless turrets. At full speed, he quickly reached the end of the ship, then cut his engines and pulled the nose away from the ship. To minimize the turn, he gunned his engines halfway through and prepared for the return journey down the length of the Destroyer. But before he could start back, three enemy fighters spotted him and closed in.

The TIE's were much swifter than Brock's x-wing. They quickly circled him, trying to catch him in their cross fire. _"Oh, but it's not that easy."_ Brock thought as he centered the nose of his x-wing on the fighter in front of him. Maybe he could get them to back off by making an example out of one.

Brock screamed towards the TIE, in a high-speed game of chicken. The TIE pilot realized what was happening and prepared to clear out of the way of the much heavier craft and its obviously insane pilot. But Brock was determined.

"Oh no, not today, sweetheart."

As the space between the fighters diminished, Brock switched all of his shields to forward and barrel rolled into the solar panel couplings. The impact caused one wing of the TIE to separate from the cockpit and sent the wreckage spiraling into the atmosphere of Yavin.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Brock mumbled triumphantly under his breath. But as he spun to face the last two fighters, the landing bays of the Artemis opened like the jaws of a rancor and released another lethal battery of TIE fighters. Clouds of enemy ships poured from the bays and prepared to finish off the evasive fighter.

Brock cursed under his breath, spun his ship and fled with lasers firing. In a heartbeat the fighters were locked onto him and firing back with all they had. A quick jerk to the left or the right was all that kept Brock from becoming space dust. With nowhere to go but straight ahead, Brock zipped through the flack, clipping the wings of two more TIE's. With his heart in his throat, he pulled up at the last possible second and zoomed into the landing bay of the Destroyer, which sealed shut seconds behind him.

"Lucky, where's Mitch?"

"I just saw him." Lucy answered as she blasted another TIE. "I think he's up by that Destroyer. He's got a death wish today and no one's convincing him otherwise." Jeremy's voice was frantic.

"Mitchell, where the hell are you, man?"

Brock's vocal cords were frozen. He was trapped inside the Destroyer and unless he went through with this stunt, he'd be dead in minutes. Navigating the narrow corridor was no walk in the park and within sixty seconds, Brock had crunched the nose of his fighter against two empty TIE's. He would have to abandon his ship and fly out in an enemy fighter.

"No time, no time," He mumbled, fumbling with his safety restraints. He quickly loaded and armed both torpedo cannons on his kamikaze x-wing hoping to cause some damage on his way out. He didn't realize that this would not be a problem since he had crashed less than thirty feet from the Destroyer's ammunition hold.

He heard the heavy hangar bay door lock and then a clatter of metal against metal. One, perhaps two more ships had followed him in at the last possible second. Brock threw his entire weight against the jammed canopy of his x-wing and made a break for the closest TIE fighter, blaster in hand.

The air was thick with the explosions and the Destroyer wobbled as ship after ship exploded against it's exterior. The enemy fighters within the structure were shooting blind and their fire grazed Brock's body on more than one occasion. In mid-sprint, Brock turned and saw the majority of the shots sinking into his abandoned fighter. His eyes widened in terror at the reality of what was about to happen. Clambering into the nearest TIE, Brock quickly studied the unfamiliar starboard. They used to have a model of one at the Academy, but that was forever ago. He hadn't seen one in years.

Nevertheless, he fired up the engine and found a couple of the ammunition triggers in a matter of seconds. When he finally removed the ship from the wall of the Destroyer, the enemy fighters were upon him. Brock swallowed hard, realizing that even if he managed to get out alive, his own team would be targeting him.

The enemy ships stopped at the sight of him, unsure of whose side he was on. Brock took advantage of the opportunity and turned his fire on them. He managed to take out the first one rather quickly. The small blast weakened the structure of the landing bay. But the bay corridor was no place for multiple fighters and by the time Brock made it over the first damaged fighter, his TIE was partially crushed. Adrenaline racing, Brock pressed forward with lasers firing and slammed all of his shields to the front to charge the second fighter. However, he realized a little too late that this TIE was not as sturdy as his x-wing. He barely cleared the second ship and by the time he did, a double explosion rocked the entire Destroyer. The smaller one, created by the second TIE fighter slamming into the remains of the first blew a small hole in the side of the landing bay, and the second one quickly flared into a blaze that threatened to destroy the whole ship.

Brock's life flashed before him as he tried to cram his wounded fighter through the wall of the ship. "This is it!" he realized audibly. "It's over!"

Slightly barbecued by the orange fire cloud at his back, Brock's partially dismembered fighter hurtled wing-over-wing toward Yavin's atmosphere. Brock fought for control of the ship, amazed that his mind was relatively clear. His thoughts were focused not so much on landing, but on the fact that the last promise he'd ever made to Jaina was about to be broken.


	15. Perfect Strangers: Seek & Ye Shall Find

Perfect Strangers: Chapter XIV

Author Notes: This part is dedicated to Lauren Gragert because she's cool and lives in Gardner with me!  And because she doesn't hate me even though it took 80 years for me to finish this story…

Jaina quietly crept out the door of the command center the moment the Artemis exploded. The sky had begun to clear from the storm, but the space fire could not yet be seen from the ground. Jaina reached out for Brock through the Force, but was immediately overcome by emotions of sheer terror and extreme distress. She wasn't even sure it was him, but someone very close was in serious trouble. As she realized what was happening, Jaina reached out with the Force to try and cushion the impact of ship against land, but with zero time to focus, there wasn't much she could do. Jaina gasped as a heap of metal hurtled out of the atmosphere, 'landed' haphazardly and skidded to a halt somewhere in the jungle.

"What the— what happened! Who did that?"

"Looks like somebody detonated the entire vaping ammo hold!"

Shrapnel flew haphazardly toward Jeremy and the rest of the Echo pilots who were still chasing TIE's when the Artemis erupted in flames. Lucy turned just in time to see several TIE's be blown apart by the explosion or caught in the blaze that followed. Wings and pods separated and tumbled toward Yavin's atmosphere.

Jeremy's voice commanded them to retreat and regroup. The Echoes pulled back their ships just as a dozen tiny explosions joined together and consumed the Artemis and its crew. Lucy closed her eyes briefly, relieved as the last of the Imperial remnants exploded into oblivion.

Hovering over Yavin, the comm waves were flooded with cheers and whistles. "Nice job flyboys and girls," Jeremy's voice said over the comm. "One more victory for the Echoes."

They cheered again as Jeremy continued. "And it's nice to finally have our estranged Captain back as well." Laughter rippled across the comms but quieted down when no response came.

"Speaking of—where is he?"

Anxious silence hung like a thick cloud in every cockpit. Brock hadn't made any comments or even started a head count. Come to think of it, there hadn't been any commands from him for the past ten minutes.

"Guys, wait—" Lucy broke through the dead air. "The last time I saw him—I think he was headed into that Star Destroyer."

A hush fell over the squad.

"He got out though, right?" Zane asked gravely.

"Yeah, you were watching him," Jeremy barked. "What happened?"

"What do you mean I was watching him?" Lucy snapped. "I was fightin' same as you were! I'm not his keeper!"

"I didn't mean it like that, Lucky, I meant—"

"I know what you meant, but I don't know where he is any more than—"

"Stop it, guys." Zane interrupted. "We don't have time for this now. Hurry up and count off, we gotta get down to the surface, now."

Jacen and Anakin celebrated with their family and friends as the Echoes retreated and the Artemis disappeared. Anakin had just hugged Tahiri when a cool breeze caught his hair. He looked up to see the door to the command center sliding shut. Scanning the room, he noticed that his sister was missing. _"She wouldn't just run out to see the blaze, would she?"_ No, something was wrong. He walked back to the viewport and quickly counted the remaining Republic fighters. Eleven. Sliding through the crowd, he grabbed his brother's arm.

"Jacen, I think something might have happened to Brock."

Jacen's eyes grew wide. "What?"

"Jaina just walked out of here and there are only eleven ships on that screen."

Jacen paused for a long moment, then made a decision.

"We'll tail her, but quietly. She left alone for a reason. Let's go."

After running for what seemed like hours, Jaina slowed her sprint to a jog. She paused to catch her breath and deactivated her saber upon seeing a fresh shipwreck at the edge of the temple landing platforms. She advanced forward slowly and froze for a moment at the base of the huge structure. Brock's essence seemed to surround this place, but it was softer than even the gentle breeze across her face. Jaina's heart pounded in her chest as she scanned the area for a trace of her beloved. Taking a breath, she stepped over mounds of smoldering leaves, and glared at the ship before her. It did not belong to Brock.

A badly mangled TIE fighter lay dying on the jungle floor. Smoke rose from what was left of the ship and a wave of anxiety washed over Jaina as she noticed that the pod was open. It looked as though the door had bounced ajar on impact, and she leaned over gingerly, hoping to be spared the sight of a dead pilot.

Sure enough, the pod was empty. Jaina was relieved, but troubled at the same time. "Brock, where are you?" she wondered aloud. She kicked a pile of leaves and dropped onto the temple stairs. Taking as deep a breath as she could in the smoggy air, Jaina exhaled and let the Force flow through her.

"It's just nerves." She concluded, brushing a single tear from her cheek. "I've got to calm down so I can find him." She mumbled to herself. She stared at the broken ship for a moment, amazed at how close the pilot had come to actually landing it. But now the pilot was gone. She suddenly worried that he might be hanging from a tree above her or something else terrible, but when she looked above, there was nothing. Nothing to the left, nothing to the right, nothing anywhere.

"Nothing." She said aloud. "Why have you lead me to nothing?" She started around the edge of the temple. "Why have you sent me through the jungle to this—vaping piece of trash?"

"I wouldn't call it trash, really. She's a decent little fighter, provided you don't try to ram anyone."

Jaina whipped around in the direction of the familiar voice and her jaw hit the ground.

"After all, she did bring me home to you," Brock smiled weakly from the second level of the landing platform. "So she can't be all bad."

Jacen and Anakin stood on the edge of the clearing, grinning as their sister raced up the stairs and fell into her boyfriend's arms. Clapping his brother on the shoulder, Jacen pulled Anakin away from the scene.

"Come on, Ani. I gotta show you somethin'."

Anakin chuckled. "Way to be subtle, bro."

END CHAPTER FOURTEEN


	16. Perfect Strangers: She Knows It

PERFECT STRANGERS: Final Epilogue

Jeremy led half of Echo Squadron to the temple landing platform on Yavin IV. He had left the other half in space to search for any traces of the Captain. As they neared the platform, Lucy's voice suddenly broke through the comm.

"Hey Sal, who's that in your parking spot?"

Jeremy didn't have time to answer before the rest of the squad erupted in joyful exclamations and wolf whistles. The black fatigues and familiar orange jumpsuit on the edge of the first platform, seemed to be one person, but was in fact two.

Brock and Jaina's lips separated slowly as half of Echo squadron landed right behind them. Jaina giggled and shook her head. "Are we ever going to get some alone time?"

Brock glanced at his friends who were racing to get out of their ships. Then he turned back to her with a grin and traced her jaw with his fingertips.

"Let 'em be jealous."

The air filled with catcalls and various other forms of congratulations as Brock ignored every pain in his body for the time being, dipped Jaina backwards and proceeded to take her breath away.

It had shaped up into a beautiful day. The sky looked as if the storm had never happened and the afternoon sun hovered over the jungles of Yavin with a gentle glow. A soft breeze accented the warmth of the sunshine and refreshed every life form present at the Academy.

Brock was simply grateful to have his feet on solid ground again. After having his wounds doctored, he was relaxing in a chair by the bonfire on the edge of the celebration party. Suddenly, a familiar voice interrupted his reverie.

"Hey Mitchell, where's your girlfriend?"

Brock turned to see Jacen Solo grinning as he advanced toward him. Brock smiled back and slapped his hand.

"She ran off to get us something to drink. What's up?"

"Actually, I just wanted to give you the heads up that my dad's looking for you."

Brock's eyes widened. "Why?"

"Don't worry," Jacen laughed. "He's not going to try and kill you or anything. He just wants to talk to you."

Brock sighed deeply and sank back into his chair. "Great."

"Easy Mitchell," Jacen said, walking past Brock's chair. "You're a big war hero now. Be fearless."

As Jacen walked away, Brock noticed a formidable frame emerging through the crowd and heading for his very chair. He turned back around and closed his eyes briefly as heavy footsteps emerged behind him. He took a deep breath as Captain Solo approached him from behind and placed a hand on his shoulder. Brock swallowed hard and looked up at him.

"Captain Solo, sir." He said, standing to his feet. Even if he had just conquered the remnants of the Imperial Army, Han Solo's presence still intimidated him. Unexpectedly, Han extended his hand to meet Brock's.

"Hey kid, you uh—feelin' alright?"

Brock smiled slightly and shook Han's hand. So Leia's diplomatic nature had rubbed off a tiny bit. "Yes sir," he answered, touching the bandages near his left eyebrow where his helmet had gouged him in the crash. "I'm fine, thank you."

Han nodded slightly. "You got a second?" he said, gesturing away from the crowd.

Brock nodded slowly. _He's gonna vaping kill me._

"Sure."

The pair abandoned the celebration and walked toward the porch of the mess hall. Han leaned against a pillar at the front of the building and crossed his arms, while Brock stood before him, as tall as possible, with his hands crossed in front of him.

Han took a deep breath. "Okay, first of all-- that was some nice flyin' you did. Very heroic of you. You're a better pilot than I thought."

Brock was beaming, though he tried to keep it from showing on his face. "Thank you, sir."

Han nodded, then paused for a moment and stared at Brock. He had been dreading this conversation since the day Jaina was born. Where to start?

"Look Mitchell--" he finally began. "I know a lot has happened these past couple of days, but I've thought about this long and hard. I only have a couple of things to say to you, and I suggest you take me seriously." Brock nodded solemnly.

Han was not at all looking forward to the statement he was about to make. He cleared his throat and looked the young pilot straight in the eye.

"Despite everything that's happened, I know you're not a bad kid. What happened three days ago wasn't really your fault. And as much as I'd like to find a reason to blame you, I can't. You weren't in your right mind and there's nothing you could do about it. I'm not saying I'm just going to forget about it-- but I'm willing to give you another chance." Brock's eyes widened as he fought to keep his mouth from falling open.

"Thank you, sir." he stammered.

Han grunted an acknowledgment and continued. "And as for Jaina..." He sighed deeply and looked Brock straight in the eye, his voice of the utmost seriousness. "She is the only daughter I have. I'm not going to let her be with just anyone. I don't care if she is nineteen and a Jedi Knight. However-- I know you care about her-- and it's obvious to our entire household that she feels the same way about you." Brock swallowed hard as Captain Solo sighed.

"All I want is for her to be happy. So, basically if you break her heart, I'll have to kill you. Keep that in mind and I think everything will be alright."

Brock released a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding as Captain Solo clapped him on the shoulder and walked away. His heartbeat began to speed up. He couldn't believe what he had just heard. A smile threatened the corners of his mouth as he made his way back to his chair.

Reveling in the perfection of the moment, Brock stared wistfully at the crowd around him. Jeremy, Zane and Lucy were talking and joking with Jacen and Anakin Solo. That motley crew of five people had become his immediate family. Even if the rest of the universe was at odds with him, those five genuinely cared about what happened to him. They were all very different, and far from perfect, but for them, the orphaned starpilot was eternally grateful. He grinned as he watched them laughing.

There was only one thing wrong with the scene; the person who meant more to him than anything in the worlds was nowhere to be seen. Brock moved to look for Jaina, but before he could even turn around, her fingers slid onto his stomach and her beautiful face smiled up at him.

"There you are!" she smiled, setting two bottles of water on his chair. "Would you quit running away from me already?"

Brock grinned back. "I'm through runnin'. I'm all yours, babe."

Brock and Jaina's lips met for the umpteenth time that day. Brock slipped his hands around her petite frame and his thumbs through the loops on the back of her flight pants. Jaina threw her arms around his neck, savoring the happiness and security she felt in that moment.

"Captain Mitchell, I don't think I can stand to be more than twenty feet away from you ever again."

Brock kissed her forehead gently as a soft post-storm breeze ruffled their hair. "Trust me, babe, you couldn't get rid of me now if you wanted to." he grinned and nuzzled her nose. "I love you, Sparks."

Jaina pulled his face down to hers and kissed him softly.

"I know." She grinned. "I know."

THE END 

Thanks so much for reading and reviewing!


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